


Pulling the Strings of Fate Taut

by AngelWithAStory



Series: Fake AH Kings [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Achievement Hunter Kings, Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Attempted Murder, Drug Addiction, Fake AH Crew, Foster Care, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Memories, Minor Character Death, Multi, Murder, Orphans, Prophecy, Reincarnation, Team as Family, Underage Drinking, Violence, fem!Jack, no gun safety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-04-23 09:32:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 63,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4871764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelWithAStory/pseuds/AngelWithAStory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Six Kings used to rule their six kingdoms. Now they rule Los Santos with an iron fist.<br/><br/><i>“It sounded pretty clear to me; the six will rise to be like kings again after all the years, and the old king's vengeance will be their freedom and their death… We both know who will survive.” </i><br/><i>“I’ll protect them. You just watch me.”<i></i></i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. G.R. - The First

**Author's Note:**

> People might recognise some of the first chapter because I did intend to use it for something else, but I scrapped that and am now using it for this Goliath of a project I have set myself.

_“You can’t save them.”_

_“You don’t know that.”_

_“Yes I do. I know you won’t be able to save them. I can make sure of that. We both know they’re not meant to live that long. They aren’t even meant to be alive again.”_

_“I’ll protect them. You just watch me.”_

_“You can’t make them live if they’re not meant to, remember that.”_

_“Not everything those Fates say comes true, you know that.”_

_“It sounded pretty clear to me; the six will rise to be like kings again after all the years, and the old king's vengeance will be their freedom and their death… We both know who will survive.”_

_“That doesn’t mean you have to try to kill them. They could find a way to survive.”_

_“Fine; how about a wager? If you can keep them alive for forty years, I’ll leave them alone.”_

_“Keep them all alive until the oldest is forty?”_

_“Until the oldest is forty. Is that a deal?”_

_“I can do anything in my power to keep them alive?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Can I tell them what I am?”_

_“You know the rules: they can’t know until the time is right. Not before.”_

_“And I can get people to help me?”_

_“Anyone you want.”_

_“I’ll take that wager.”_

***

He met her that day.

Geoff was trudging down the street, his backpack heavy against his spine, feeling the sun begin to set. The street was practically deserted and his feet barely kicked up any dust as he walked. It wasn’t like they lived in the _worst_  part of Los Santos, but they weren’t far off.

Geoff saw a shitty, broken down park further up the street and knew he needed to rest if he wanted to get somewhere by morning. There was structure in the park that had a slide on one side, monkey bars on another, a rope ladder opposite that and a low bench on the fourth side.

His tired feet took him over to the low bench and her settled himself on it, keeping his backpack on and folding his arms over himself. Geoff made himself as comfortable as he could on the uncomfortable wood-plastic hybrid material that made up the bench.

Geoff had just closed his eyes and settled when he felt something drop into his lap. His reaction was violent and he knew that he swore very loudly. Whatever fell in his lap fell to the ground in front of him and when Geoff’s heartbeat slowed down, he looked at it. His hands closed around it and he lifted it off the ground so he could see it.

“Cookies?” He frowned at the shop-bought bag of cookies and finally looked up to see where they could have fallen from.

He almost swore again when he saw a young girl’s face looking down at him.

“Hi.” The girl said kindly, smiling down at him. She had red, almost-frizzy hair that fell around her face as she leaned over to look down at him. As far as Geoff could tell, she couldn’t have been older than eight or nine years old.

“Er, hi.” Geoff said, uncertainly.

“Who are you running away from?” The girl asked.

“My foster home.” Geoff admitted, re-crossing his arms over his chest and stretching his legs out.

“Well, they close the park at eight so you can’t stay here for much longer. The park a few blocks down is better for staying out late.”  She said.

“How would you know that?” Geoff asked, frowning at her.

“My parents don’t come home until late and I don’t like the empty house.” She admitted. “What’s your name?” The girl asked.

“Geoff.” He said. “What’s yours?”

“Jacqueline. I live over there.” She nodded further down the street and Geoff followed her gaze. “Why are you running away?” Jacqueline asked.

“I can’t take it anymore.” Geoff said, not looking back at her. “I know they mean well but I hate it. I hate them.”

“Where are you gonna go? You’re what, twelve?” Jacqueline said.

“Thirteen.” Geoff corrected. “And anywhere’s better than here. Why do you care anyway? You’re like eight.” He finally looked back up at her and saw her head disappearing. The sounds of someone climbing down the ladder and he saw Jacqueline walking towards him. She sat on the bench next to him. Geoff noted, with a hint of amusement, that she was significantly shorter than him.

“You can’t do anything until you finish high school anyway.” Jacqueline said.

“I don’t care.” Geoff said, stubbornly not looking at her.

“You should.” Jacqueline said immediately. She let silence surround them for a few moments before she spoke again. “You can have some of those cookies if you want.” She said, nodding to the bag between them. Grudgingly, he opened the bag and looked inside. There were three cookies left, so he took one out for himself and passed one to Jacqueline. They ate them in silence, looking out over the houses.

“What would you do?” Geoff asked suddenly. “If you were me?”

“I’d wait and get a plan together.” Jacqueline said. “You can’t do anything at thirteen.” She looked over at Geoff as she finished her cookie. Geoff nodded as he finished his own.

“I think you’ve convinced me, Jacqueline.” Geoff said, looking at her.

“Are you going to get in trouble?” Jacqueline asked, looking back at him. He shrugged and put on a brave face.

“Nah.” Geoff said.

“ _JACKIE_!”

Both heads turned in the direction of the sound and they saw a woman with Jacqueline’s almost-frizzy, red hair further down the street.

“I have to go.” Jacqueline said, standing up from the bench. “You can have the last cookie.” She said, walking out the park towards the woman.

Geoff stayed at the park for a little while longer. He expected to never see that kid again and he had that thought as he stood up and started to walk back to his house.

***

Geoff never expected to see that little girl again, so he was actually surprised when he was walking back from school a few days later and saw a huddle of people. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he’d seen enough to know that there was a fight happening.

On any other day, he would have just walked past, but something about it kept his attention for a little bit longer. He was glad it had when he saw a flash of red hair between the members of the crowd. He walked closer to the crowd and hear what the crowd was shouting. And he didn’t like it.

Geoff wasn’t stupid. He knew that if he went up to them and tried to end the fight on his own, he’d be dragged into it. There was only one way to break up a fight around there.

“COPS!” Geoff shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth.

Like magic, the crowd scattered and Geoff managed to pick out the person he was looking for as she tried to run past him.

“Hold up,” Geoff said, holding onto her arm and stopping her. Jacqueline’s head whipped around and she visibly relaxed when she recognised who it was. The rest of the crowd had already gone and it was just the two of them on the street.

“What are you doing here?” Jacqueline asked, snatching her arm away. Geoff looked at her critically. She had cuts all over her exposed skin and dark bruises blossoming over her shoulders and one on her cheek.

“What was that about?” Geoff asked.

“I got in a fight.” Jacqueline said as if it was obvious.

“I know that. I mean, what was the fight about?” Geoff asked in the same tone of voice. Jacqueline crossed her arms over her chest and turned her head away.

“He called my mother a whore.” She admitted. “They weren’t married when I was born.” Jacqueline said, her voice going small.

“Did you throw the first punch?” Geoff asked, feeling some protective instinct swell inside his chest.

“Yeah. Right across the face.” Jacqueline said, sounding proud of herself.

“Let me see your hand.” Geoff said. Jacqueline looked at him in confusion but obediently extending her hand towards him. Her knuckles were red, if they weren’t grazed and bleeding.

Geoff let out a low whistle and crouched so they were eye-level.

“Look, if you’re going to throw the first punch don’t aim for the face; aim for the throat. Hitting someone in the face only knocks them out in the movies, And _always_  keep your wrist straight or you’ll fuck up your arm.” Geoff said, mentally reprimanding himself for letting himself swear. Wasn’t he meant to be a good example or some shit? Why did he care?

“You shouldn't say that word.” Jacqueline said, but she nodded at him, knowing to remember that information.

“Come on,” Geoff said, standing back up with a small smile on his face. “I have a first aid kit at my house. I can fix up your hands.”

Jacqueline looked as if she was weighing up all the outcomes but eventually smiled at him, following Geoff as they walked down the street.

His foster parent’s house wasn’t anything spectacular. It was identical to every other house on the street and the only thing that made it stick out was the shitty, purple-painted car parked in the driveway.

He stepped up to the door and unlocked it, beckoning Jacqueline through. She followed him timidly, looking around. Geoff walked upstairs, Jacqueline following closely behind him, and walked into the bathroom. He put the lid of the toilet down and gestured for her to take a seat.

It didn’t take him long to find the first aid kit and he balanced it on his knee while he tried to find what he needed.

“Okay, Jacqueline, give me your hand.” Geoff said, getting the bottle of antiseptic and soaking a cotton pad in it. Jacqueline extending her hand again and Geoff took it, gently brushing the cotton pad across her knuckles. She hissed in pain and snatched her hand back. Geoff made a sympathetic face and Jacqueline took a deep breath, letting him clean her hand. Her free hand was clenched around some of her shirt material, spasming with pain every time she winced.

When Geoff was done with one hand, he cleaned out the other and wrapped them both up in gauze.

“There.” Geoff said proudly, sitting back. “Any other injuries I should treat?”

“I think I’m okay.” Jacqueline said, flexing her fingers reflexively. “Thank you, Geoff.” She said, looking up at him.

“No problem, Jacqueline.” Geoff said, smiling at her brightly as he packed away the first aid kit. “If you want, I’ll walk you back to your house, or to your park if you’d prefer that.” He said.

“Only if you’ll stay with me until my parents get home.” Jacqueline said.

“Deal.”  

***

They became friends like it was the most natural thing in the world.

It became reflex for Geoff to wait for Jacqueline after school, and for the both of them to go to the park and hang around until Jacqueline’s parents came home. If the weather was too bad or too hot, they would go to Jacqueline’s house and Geoff would do his homework while Jacqueline read or did her own homework.

It was easy being friends and they genuinely enjoyed each other’s company, even if they were just sat in silence. Geoff watched as Jacqueline went through her first growth spurt and Jacqueline watched at Geoff tried to grow facial hair (teasing him when it was nothing more than wisps of hair to begin with).

Even when Geoff graduated and got a job as a mechanic, they still found time to see each other, even if it was only on the weekends. College wasn't an option for him, but that was just how the world was.

***

Geoff was nearly nineteen and Jacqueline was thirteen when he turned up at her house in the middle of the night. He had thrown a rock at Jacqueline’s window so he didn’t accidentally wake her parents. She appeared at the window and just pointed around to the door.

Geoff waited for her to open the door and she ushered him in. Jacqueline’s face was worried as she realised he was wearing a hefty backpack and had on his old denim jacket that he’d had gotten on his seventeenth birthday.

“Jackie, I can’t stay in that house anymore.” He said urgently. She suddenly realised there was a bruise on his cheek and she reached out to brush her hand over it. He flinched away from her by accident.

“Who gave you that?” Jacqueline asked, hovering her hand over the bruise.

“My foster dad.” Geoff admitted, not able to look Jacqueline’s eye. “Jackie, I’m leaving. I have a friend who said I can stay with them until I can get my own place. They said they can get me a job.”

“You’re really leaving.” Jacqueline said, finally retracting her hand. It sounded like acceptance.

“Jackie, I can’t stay in that house any more.” Geoff said, putting his hands on her shoulders and meeting her eye. “I’ll write to you as soon as I get settled, I promise.”

“You better, jackass.” Jacqueline said, pulling him into a sudden hug. He hugged her tightly, burrowing his face in her shoulder. Jacqueline held fistfuls of his jacket as she let herself be enveloped by him.

“I have to go.” Geoff said when Jacqueline loosened her grip. “I’ll write to you as soon as I can.”

She just nodded and watched him leave her house, shutting the door behind him with a sense of finality that settled heavily on her chest.

***

Geoff didn’t see Jacqueline in the flesh until she had just turned eighteen and he heard a knock at the door in the early hours of the morning. He had crashed on the sofa and his hair was a mess, but he forgot all about that when he saw her standing on the other side of his door, tears staining her face. She still tried to smile up at him.

“My parents are dead.” Was the first thing Jacqueline said, furiously rubbing her eyes. Geoff pulled her into a fierce hug and she cried against his shoulder. He patted her back soothingly and mentally noted how much taller she was now. Geoff pulled them both inside his apartment and shut the door, bolting it with one hand.

He held her until Jacqueline’s body stopped shaking and she stepped away from him. Her face was red and her eyes were puffy, but he was just so glad to see her face.

“Jackie, what happened?” Geoff asked gently, leading her over to the sofa he was asleep on, not five minutes ago. She visibly flinched at the old nickname.

“Jack. I’m just Jack now. Not Jackie, not Jacqueline. Just Jack.” She said, scrubbing her face with the sleeve of her jacket.

“Okay, Jack.” Geoff said. The new name felt a bit strange in his mouth after all those years of Jackie, but in some other way it felt right. “What happened?”

“A guy came to our house. I don’t know if he was a burglar or what, but I heard the gunshots in my parents room and I hid under my bed. He went into my room and I know he was looking for me, but then I heard him get something from my parents bedroom and then he left. They were-” Jack cut off, looking like she was going to be sick. “They were _everywhere_.” She finally managed to say, the blood draining from her face. Geoff was worried that he'd have to grab a bin to catch her vomit.

“You’re not going back.” Geoff said, and they both knew it wasn’t a question.

“I’ve only just finished high school.” Jack said, shaking her head. “The only jobs I’ve had are a few summer jobs. I left everything at the house.”

“We’ll work something out, Jack.” Geoff promised. “We’ll make a plan. In the morning, I’ll go and get your stuff. There’s a mechanic near here that I could talk into hiring you, even if you work the front desk.”

“You still work as a mechanic?” Jack asked, turning to look at him.

“No, I, uh, I got another job.” Geoff said. “But I know they’d hire you. He owes me a favour. Maybe he’ll even teach you a thing or two.”

“Geoff, this is crazy and you know it.” Jack said, feeling her eyes burn again. The hole in her chest hurt so much and just wanted it to _stop_.

“It’s not crazy. I’m an adult now and you’re only a few months from turning eighteen.” Geoff said. “It’s a good plan!” He insisted.

“You know what,” Jack said, wiping her face with her sleeve again. “I don’t want to talk about this now. I’m really fucking tired.”

“You can stay here for a while.” Geoff said automatically. “You can take the nice bed.”  

“I'm not going to take your bed-”

“Too late.” Geoff said dramatically. Jack let out a small sigh.

“What about your room mate?” Jack asked.

“Gus moved out a month ago and I haven’t gotten round to finding another person to take him room.” Geoff admitted. Jack knew that Geoff wasn’t going to let up about this and she rubbed at her eyes with the palms of her hands. She had a headache from crying that wasn't helping anything.

“Well I'm not going to force you out your own room. I’ll just take the empty bed.” Jack said. She groaned and held her head in her hands, grabbing her own hair in frustration. “I just want to forget what happened.”

“I think I have something for that.” Geoff admitted, standing up and going to his tiny kitchen area. He rummaged around until he found it. ‘ _It_ ’ being a half empty bottle of cheap vodka. It tasted awful but it would definitely take the edge off.

“Here.” Geoff said, walking back to where Jack was.

“Booze? Is that your solution?” Jack asked. Any other day and she might have looked amused by it.

“You wanted to forget, and when I want to forget something, this stuff helps.” Geoff said, tilting it to the side. “You don't have to if you don't want to. It's just an idea, and it’s only a short-term solution.” He said. Jack looked at the bottle for a second before making her decision.

“Fuck it.” She hissed, taking the bottle off him and unscrewing the cap.

It smelled _strong_  but Jack either ignored it or didn't care as she took a long swig. Geoff was impressed that she didn't immediately spit it out. Jack covered her mouth her the back of her hand, blanching at the taste.

“People drink that for _fun_?” She asked in disbelief. Geoff took the bottle off her and took a drink himself.

“Usually they start off with something a bit weaker than this.” Geoff admitted. “Is that the first drink you've ever had?” He asked, looking at her curiously.

“Does tasting wine at New Years count?” Jack asked, taking the bottle back.

“No.” Geoff said, watching Jack take another drink and taking the bottle when she offered it.

“Then yes.” Jack said.

“You haven't gone to any house parties since I left?” Geoff asked, drinking some more cheap vodka.

“I've been busy.” Jack admitted. Geoff snorted at that and passed the bottle back to her.

They passed the bottle between them until it was empty and they were both significantly drunk (Jack more so than Geoff).

Geoff finally took this time to _look_  at Jack. The last few years had kind to her (current situation _aside_ ). She'd lost some of her baby fat and her hair was cut to her shoulders and currently tied back away from her face. It looked like she was still in what could be pyjamas with a jacket thrown over them. Did she just get on a bus as soon as this happened and come to his apartment? He knew she had the address; he was just surprised that the first person she went to was him.

The Jack sat across from him on the beat-up old sofa looked different to the mental image of her that he'd held since he had moved away. She was different, but still undeniably _Jack_.

When the bottle was dry, Geoff helped Jack to her feet. She was surprisingly steady as Geoff showed her where the bathroom was and gave her his bedroom. They weren’t as drunk as they could have been, but it was enough.

“Get some sleep, Jack. We’ll figure everything out in the morning.” Geoff said, going to close the door.

“Geoff,” Jack said, catching his attention. “Thank you. You’re my best friend.” She said. Geoff smiled at her, but he knew she couldn’t see it.

“You’re my best friend too, Jack. I’ll see you in the morning.” Geoff said, shutting the door behind him.

***

The next morning, Jack woke up with a splitting headache the vague sense that something awful had happened. The only time she could remember her head feeling anywhere near this bad was when she had a migraine a few years before and had to stay home from school.

It took her eyes a moment to figure out that she was in a bedroom that _certainly_  wasn’t hers. She sat up in the bed, aware that she was wearing her pyjamas with her hair loose around her head, and saw a bottle of water and a bottle of aspirin on the bedside table. Jack quickly took some and drowned it with the water.

She pulled back the covers and got out of the bed, walking to the door. There was a note taped to it and she instantly recognised the handwriting.

 

_Jack,_

_If I’m not here when you wake up, don’t panic. I let you sleep in. You needed it. I went to get your stuff from your house because you need your clothes and stuff. When I get back, we’ll figure out what we’re going to do._

_Geoff_

_p.s. there’s some cereal in the kitchen if you’re hungry_

 

Jack read the note twice just to make sense of it. The aspirin hadn’t started to work yet, so her headache made it difficult for her to focus.

The previous night still wasn’t coming back to her, but when she walked in the kitchen, she saw the empty vodka bottle and suddenly remembered getting drunk with Geoff on his sofa.

Remembering getting drunk opened the floodgates and Jack remembered _everything_.

_The gunshots, the figure, the blood, her parent’s dead eyes, running out the house, wondering down the streets…_

Her breath quickened and she gripped the kitchen counter. She couldn’t breathe.

“Jack?” Geoff’s voice cut through her thoughts and she focused on his face in front of her. His hands on her shoulders, shaking her slightly. Jack’s hands gripped his shirt and she felt him gently wipe away the tears she didn’t know were on her face.

“I remember.” Jack said, her eyes sharp and watery at the same time. “I remember.”

“It’s okay, Jack.” Geoff said softly. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I'm going to throw up.” Jack said quietly, keeping Geoff's gaze with the same intensity.

Geoff led her to the bathroom and held back her hair as she vomited up the very little contents of her stomach. Neither of them really knew if it was from the hangover or from the trauma.

He gently rubbed circles in her back as she let her stomach empty itself. By the time her stomach was empty, Jack thought she’d never get the taste of bile out of her mouth.

“Hey, buddy, it’s okay.” Geoff said calmly, hovering one hand near Jack as she shifted to sit on the floor beside the toilet. “Congratulations on your first hangover.” He added, smiling at her proudly. He sat on the floor opposite her and draped his arms over his knees.

Jack could see his appearance clearly in the morning light. He had a t-shirt on and jeans that looked worn through. Either he hadn’t shaved yet that morning, or he was trying to grow a beard at age twenty-three. Either way, the growing fuzz on his face actually suited him pretty well.

“How come you don’t have a hangover?” Jack asked, frowning at the injustice of it. Geoff laughed and she realised just how much she’d missed that laugh.

“Who says I don’t? It isn’t the first time I’ve gotten drunk.” Geoff said.

“I thought you were my good example.” Jack teased, smiling at him weakly. Her head was starting to hurt again.

“Oh _God_ , don’t say stuff like that, Jack.” Geoff said, sounding horrified. His melodrama had its intended effect because Jack laughed even if it was a bit weak. The laugh didn’t last long and Jack fell silent. She tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling, letting out a low sigh.

“What are we gonna do, Geoff?” Jack said, rolling her head back down to look at him. He saw the uncertainty in her eyes. Even if he _was_  the worst role model in the entire history of the universe (which would be one _Hell_  of a title), Jack _needed_  him right now.

“Well, I got some of your stuff for you.” Geoff started, nodding in the general direction of the door. “I think.. I think we should bury your parents first. When I was out, I called the cops about it.” He admitted. Jack nodded slowly, blinking back the sudden burn in her eyes.

“I should be there for that.” Jack said. “Help organise it.”

“What about your uncle?” Geoff asked. “Couldn’t he do it?”

“Probably, but I haven’t seen him in a while. I should call him.” Jack said. “I want to be there for the funeral. Say goodbye to them.” Geoff nodded slowly. He knew that feeling.

“We’ll call your uncle. He deserves to know, at least.” Geoff said. “But first: breakfast.” He said, standing up and extending a hand to Jack.

She looked up at him and took his hand, letting him help her to her feet. The headache still demanded to be known and something deep inside Jack felt like it had broken, but if he was still as good in the kitchen as he used to be, Jack just couldn’t say no to some of Geoff’s cooking.

***

It took three weeks for Jack’s parent’s names to be immortalised in stone and for Jack to settle into Geoff’s dingy little apartment in the middle of a seedy block. (Jack’s uncle didn’t even turn up for the funeral; he just sent his condolences with a letter and a small check that he stated was to ‘ _help my little Jackie in this trying time_ ’.)

It took another week after that for for Geoff to make good on his word and for Jack to be hired at the local mechanics shop.

It took a few months for Jack to learn everything there is to know about drivable vehicles and for her to be promoted from ‘ _that broad at the front desk_ ’ to being a mechanic in the stuffy workroom with light blue overalls that Jack actually really liked to wear. (Jack always thought part of that was to keep Jack away from the customers who leered at her).

It took a year and a half for Jack and Geoff to scrape together enough money to move out of the dingy little apartment to a slightly bigger, less dingy apartment a couple blocks away. It was still close enough to the shop for Jack to keep her job.

It took two years for Jack to be able to breathe when she thought of her childhood home. Every time something reminded her, Geoff always suddenly had _amazing_  plans to go see that new film that just came out, or to have dinner at this nice new restaurant that _just_  opened up nearby. Even if they couldn’t _really_  afford it, Geoff always seemed to scrape enough money together to treat Jack in some way until the pain in her chest lessened. (Jack didn’t ask and Geoff didn’t tell when it came to the extra money.)

It took two and a half years for Jack to find out what Geoff did for a living.

Jack was working that day. She was in the shop, her overalls stained with motor oil and the sleeves rolled up to her elbows as she fixed the car that belonged to a regular called John who once left with a black eye after telling Jack that she should ‘ _lo_ _se the overalls and maybe she’ll get more money_ ’. Jack wished she had been the one to give him that black eye, but her boss had got there before her.

The car was old, but obviously loved, and the regular _had_  apologised to her when he came to pick up his car, so Jack did her best and treated the car like she would treat her own (even though her own car was _much_  older and arguably in worse shape).

“Jack!” Her boss shouted, sticking his head into the garage. “There’s a kid here that says they need to talk to you. Something about Geoff.”

“Oh, okay.” Jack said, standing up straight and grabbing a rag to wipe the oil off her hands. “Should I talk to him in here, Joel?”

“Sure, Jack.” Joel said, disappearing into the front of the shop again. A few seconds later, a small, dark haired kid walked through the door. He had a threadbare hoodie on and his hands tucked into the front pocket. The kid had to have been no older than sixteen and barely reached her chin.

“Hi.” Jack said, leaning against the car she was fixing and looking at the kid curiously.

“Hey.” The kid said, barely looking at her. “Geoff told me that you can’t go back to the apartment for a while. Oh, and that you shouldn’t leave work until he gets here.”

“Did he say why?” Jack asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She pretended that her heart rate hadn’t picked up. Sometimes Geoff had warned her to be careful when walking through certain places, but he never told her to not go home.

“Trust me, you don’t want to know.” The kid said, shrugging his shoulders. “Geoff said to just stay here until he gets here.”

Jack nodded in acknowledgement and the kid left. As soon as the kid disappeared, Joel walked through and stood opposite Jack. They both knew that there was always seedy business being done around the shop (Joel never allowed any illegitimate business _inside_  the shop), but this was the first time that it had directly affected them.

“What did he say?” Joel asked.

“That Geoff did something stupid.” Jack said, standing back up properly and moving so that she could resume her work on the car. 

***

Geoff turned up at the shop after the sun had gone down, profuse apologies spilling from him before he even was fully in the shop. Jack had actually finished work an few hours before, but Joel didn’t want to leave her alone in the shop, so by the time Geoff had arrived, they were both playing some card game over the front counter.

“Hey Geoff.” Jack said, placing a card on the table and looking at Joel expectantly. “Sort everything out?”

“Yeah,” Geoff said, accidentally noticing that there was a smudge of oil on the top of Jack’s ear and a bit in her hair that looked like it had been hastily tied up. “When you’ve finished your game, we can go.” He added, looking at their card game.

Joel looked up at Geoff and placed a single card down on the table, turning his head to grin at Jack.

“ _Son of a bitch_.” Jack hissed, putting her hand back down on the table. Joel laughed and gathered all the cards together, putting them back into the packet easily.

“Bright and early tomorrow, Jack; don’t forget.” Joel said, beginning to clean up the front desk.

“I won’t, Joel.” Jack promised, pulling her jacket back on and leaving the workshop with Geoff.

The day had been warm when she left the apartment that morning, so under her overalls, Jack was just wearing a button up shirt (that Geoff had bought her for her birthday and that Jack _loved_ ), jean shorts and the jacket she had ‘ _borrowed_ ’ from Geoff. But since night had fallen, a cool breeze had picked up and now Jack regretted the shorts.

Geoff had put his arm through Jack’s arm, walking close to her down the street and making sure they stayed along brightly lit pavements. Any other day, Jack wouldn’t have thought anything of it. Los Santos was a dangerous city if you weren’t the thing people were afraid of. So many people died in gang attacks or street wars that the news barely gave it any attention any more. It wasn’t unusual to walk down the street and see remnants of spilt blood if you were in the wrong part of town.

But his cryptic instructions from earlier had meant that Jack was more than concerned when Geoff’s gentle grip on her arm suddenly became a vice.

Two pinpricks of light started coming towards them down the road and the blood drained from Geoff’s face.

“Come on,” Geoff hissed, pulling the both of them into an alley.

“What’s going on?” Jack asked, letting Geoff pull her into the alley. Jack had always put a certain amount of faith into Geoff, and she reminded herself of that when she saw Geoff pull a revolver out of his waistband and check the chambers.

“I pissed off the wrong people, Jack.” Geoff admitted, clicking the chambers back in place and looking at the end of the alley they had just passed. He held the gun in his hand with a familiarity that he didn’t have until a few years ago. “Just stay behind me. Jack?” He said, glancing over his shoulder.

It took barely two seconds for Geoff to have the gun raised and aimed at the head of the man holding Jack against him by the throat with a gun pressed to her head.

“You didn’t get the goods, Geoff.” The man said, knowing he had the upperhand.

“Let her go, she’s not part of this.” Geoff warned, cocking the gun. His hand didn’t waver at all.

“You _made_  her part of this.” The man said, also cocking the gun. Geoff chances a glance at Jack and saw the thunderous look in her eye. Jack’s hand twitched towards the inside of her jacket.

“Let her go. I’ll get you the drugs tomorrow.” Geoff promised.

The man was about to reply, but Geoff watched as his body jolted slightly and his eyes almost roll back into his skull. Jack burst forwards when she felt the man’s grip on her go slack and spun around, pulling the gun out of Geoff’s hand and aiming at the man. She fired three bullets into the man’s head and they both watched as the man fell to the ground, his brain obliterated by the bullets.

There was a moment of stunned silence where time stopped.

“Oh my God!” Geoff exclaimed, pulling Jack towards him. He carefully took the gun off her, dumping the empty cases out. Once he’d done that, Geoff made sure the gun wasn’t going to go off accidentally. He placed it back into his waistband both on the ground and put his attention on Jack.

But Jack was looking across the street.

There was a figure standing under a streetlamp with small, glinting objects in their hands. Their face was obscured by something that didn’t look like it was a physical object; it looked like something that couldn’t exist. Their posture was partly defiant and partly like a deer caught in headlights, ready to bolt. They were watching Jack and just waiting to see who would make the first move. Even though Jack knew nothing about that person, she felt like she _did_  know them. Like she’d _seen_  them before.

Jack’s eyes flickered down to the man who had held the gun to her head and saw five knives protruding from different areas of his back.

“Jack, oh my God, are you alright?” Geoff fussed, turning Jack away from the scene and gripping her upper arms with a sense of urgency.

“I’m fine, Geoff.” Jack promised.

“Where the Hell did you learn to shoot like that?!” Geoff demanded, still not letting go of Jack’s arms.

“Joel took me to the gun range a few times. He said that I should know how to shoot.” Jack admitted.

“You don’t get aim that good after a few times, Jack.” Geoff said. “Holy shit.”

“You deal drugs.” Jack said. It wasn’t a question, but it wasn’t an accusation either.

“Kinda? I do jobs for anyone who will pay me. Sometimes it’s dealing drugs, sometimes it’s stealing them, sometimes it’s to take someone out.” Geoff admitted, sounding almost ashamed.

“Take me with you tomorrow.” Jack said suddenly. Geoff paused, unsure if he heard Jack right. “Let me be your backup, Geoff.” Jack repeated.

“What?! No!” Geoff shouted. “I’m not letting you do that! It’s dangerous!”

“Why are _you_  doing it then?” Jack challenged.

“Because it pays well!” Geoff defended. “It means that I can keep us in a nice apartment and _you_  don’t have to take extra hours doing a mindless job!”

“I _like_  working as a mechanic!” Jack shouted. “But if you’re doing something dangerous then I’m going with you!”

“No, you can’t!” Geoff protested.

“Why not?”

“Because if something happens to you-” Geoff said, all the fight leaving him suddenly. “Jack, I can’t let something happen to you.”

“ _Nothing_  will happen to me, Geoff.” Jack said. It sounded an awful lot like a promise. “And you can’t do this all by yourself.”

It took two more days of persuading for Geoff to agree to let Jack come with him on a small job. It took another two weeks on top of that for Geoff to start taking bigger jobs now he had Jack watching his back.

It took Jack a month to quit her mechanic job, much to Joel’s disappointment. He had really hoped that Jack wouldn’t have let herself be tempted.

It made keeping them alive so much harder.

***

_“I tried. I really did.” Joel said, looking over at the figure standing opposite him. “And hey, I did more than Gus did. He just got up and left.”_

_“I know.” The figure said. They didn’t sound angry, just tired. “I don’t blame you. I blame him for tempting them.”_

_“Hey, you only have to keep them alive for another fifteen years.” Joel said, fairly. “I mean, Geoff’s twenty-five now. It shouldn’t be that hard.”_

_“It’s been hard enough keeping them all alive for this long.” The figure admitted. “They live in different places and it’s getting harder and harder to be able to protect them.”_

_“You still have your other people Watching over them, right?” Joel said. The figure nodded solemnly._

_“They’re doing the best they can, but Watchers can only do so much. No offense.”_

_“None taken. Maybe you should just get them all in one place.” Joel suggested. “Then it would be easier to make sure they all don’t die.”_

_“That could also make it easier for him to try and tempt them.” The figure said._

_“Even if he does, if we’re smart about it, then they can still live.” Joel said. “I already taught Jack how to use a gun, the boys from the East coast know how to defend themselves pretty well, Geoff’s got a small armoury between him and Jack, and the British one has one of your best looking out for him. If they were all together, then they’d be able to defend each other.”_

_“That might not be a bad idea.” The figure admitted._


	2. G.F - The Prince

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one will definitely take longer in between updates, sorry...
> 
> School sucks and writing's hard

_"Can I trust you with this one?”_

_"Of course. You think this is the first time I’ve had to Watch over someone? And why are you even worried? The lad’s really smart. We’ll be fine.”_

_"That’s_ why _I’m worried. And I’m sure_ he’s _going to try something while he’s young. You have to make sure he’ll be okay.”_

_"I know, V, don’t worry. I’ll make sure the little blighter’s perfectly fine. And let’s face it, he can’t be as much trouble as that little one on the East coast of America.”_

_“I trust you. If everything goes well, hopefully we’ll see each other again.”_

_“See you then.”_  

***

When he was growing up in England, America was always this _fanciful_  place to Gavin. The land of Dreams, the land of the Rich and Famous. British stars went to America to become properly famous, and Gavin could only dream of going.

His childhood best friend never seemed to share his enthusiasm.

“Why would you want to travel halfway across the world for no reason?” Dan would ask, pushing the buttons on the video game controller, trying to desperately avoid the other goombas.

“I dunno,” Gavin admitted, moving his little character on the screen to collect the coins. “I just think it’s be pretty top to go there. And it’s not for no reason, B; it’d be pretty cool to work on films out there.”

Gavin had a fascination with everything cameras and cinematography that Dan shared, especially when it came to slow motion. It was the thing that the boys had bonded over.

Well, that wasn't quite true. The boys had been friends long before they realised they both loved cinema.

Even from their first meeting, they got along like a house on fire.

The teacher had sat them together on the first day of year one, both of them at the front. Even as a child, something about Gavin seemed to draw chaos to him. He'd break things without meaning to, accidentally snap other children's crayons and no one ever seemed to believe him when he promised it was an accident. There was even a few months when Gavin thought he was cursed.

He thought the curse was lifted when he met Dan.

The boy was always well put together, his hair always a sensible amount of messy that looked cool and confident, and he was always friendly and open.

They had gelled _instantly_.

All through primary school, Gavin and Dan had practically been joined at the hip. If you wanted to find one boy, ask where the other was.

Gavin became known less for his accidental destruction, and more for his jovial nature. Dan was always there to boost his jokes and anything broken, Dan could fix.

People asked why Dan was friends with Gavin - he was cool enough to be friends with anyone, but Dan always smiled and made sure that Gavin never heard. He couldn’t have his best friend going round thinking people thought less of him.

Gavin’s parents adored Dan and they would both go round to Gavin’s house after school and play games on his console until it got too late and Dan would walk home.

Gavin never thought much of how they _actually_  became friends; for him, he couldn’t actually remember a time when they _weren’t_  friends.

And that was just fine with both of them.

***

At age seventeen, Gavin’s parents moved their family to the west coast America because his father had been offered a promotion. His parents had tried to persuade him to stay in England, stay with his grandparents, finish his education. But Gavin was having none of it.

To the seventeen year old Gavin, going to live in America was like a dream come true.

Dan didn’t think so.

“Just be safe out there, B.” Dan must have said a dozen times, at least.

“Of course I’ll be safe, B.” Gavin must have replied a dozen times, at least. “It’s just America.”

But nothing was ever that simple.

***

It took a month for everything to go to hell.

The school Gavin had been enrolled in was supposed to be a great new start for him, but by the end of the first day, Gavin knew that that was a lie.

He had practically walked into the school with a target on his back and it barely took a week for Gavin to get his first black eye. His parents had enough to worry about, what with unpacking the house and the calls that consisted of heavy sighs and desperate tones. Gavin didn’t want to add to their problems, so he kept them to himself.

The first fortnight in America ended for Gavin with a concussion and bruises littering the parts of his body that he easily concealed. He took the next Monday off school, but as soon as he was back, he was crowded and punches were thrown (but never by Gavin; he’d never been much of a fighter).

By the end of the first month, Gavin knew he couldn’t stay.

On the last Friday of that first month, Gavin deliberately skipped to school. He waited until he knew his parents weren’t going to be in the house and quickly packed a backpack with what he knew were essentials.

Gavin stuffed as many clothes as he could into his bag, all the money in his wallet, his birth certificate and passport, and a few other possessions that he reasoned he could sell if he needed to. His hands hovered over a sleek, black portable camcorder and he allowed himself a few minutes to remember.

He remembered saving up his money with Dan for _months_  and finally buying the camera together. He remembered filming mundane things and fiddling with the footage on the school computers. He remembered when he told Dan they were moving, Dan had just pressed the camera into his hands and told him to use it to make his first film and to invite him to the first screening.

Gavin stuffed the camera into his backpack, zipping it and swinging it onto his back resolutely.

Gavin was a smart kid, even if he never acted that way. He knew running away wasn’t the best option, but the idea of staying was even worse. For some reason, Dan’s parting words to him where ringing in his head.

_“I’ll miss you, B. Remember to watch out for strangers.”_

Dan had said that with a smile on his face, but now as he was trudging down the road to the bus station, Gavin felt like there was some meaning hidden behind the words.

A month wasn’t a long time to learn the layout of a city, but even after that short time, Gavin found the bus station with relative ease. When he stepped inside, he saw a map of bus routes posted on the wall, so he went over to it and studied it for a few minutes.

There was a city a bit further down which the map called ‘ _Los Santos_ ’, and Gavin felt a  draw towards that single point on the map. He glanced at the departures board and saw that there was a bus heading to Los Santos in ten minutes.

Gavin drew his shoulders back and went over to the counter, praying that the woman behind it wouldn’t try to stop him.

“One to Los Santos, please.” Gavin said, taking the money out of his wallet and placing it on the counter in front of the glass that separated him from the woman. The woman barely looked at him as she printed his ticket and completed the transaction.

Gavin took his ticket and waited outside for the bus, drawing his backpack closer to him nervously. He saw it pull up and joined the short queue waiting to get on.

No one even gave him a second glance as he got into his seat.

The bus was about to pull away from the terminal when someone quickly rushed onboard. The person was a teenager like Gavin, maybe a few years younger. He still had a baby face and a mop of blonde hair on his head.

There weren’t that many seats available on the bus and Gavin had one empty next to him, so the young blonde boy made his way to Gavin’s row and saw beside him.

He didn’t have any bags with him, which Gavin found a bit strange, nor did it look like he actually had a ticket with him.

“Hi, I’m Kerry.” The blonde boy said once the bus was on the road, heading to the next stop.

“I’m Gavin.”

“Where are you heading?” Kerry said. He seemed to be the only one who wanted a conversation on the entire bus. (Strangely enough, it didn’t seem like anyone else minded that Kerry was talking quite loudly on the bus).

“Los Santos.” Gavin replied, keeping his voice down.

“Oh, you’re a runaway. Cool, I am too.” Kerry said chirpily.

Gavin should have been able to guess from the uneasy feeling in his stomach that something was wrong. But Gavin was lonely and afraid of the unknown, so the idea of at least having a friend with him was a nice one.

***

It was Kerry's fault.

It always was.

The few weeks he had been homeless in Los Santos, Gavin had felt both petrified and elated. It was a new place and he didn’t have bullies breathing down his neck; on the other hand, Gavin had no home and was sleeping rough on the streets on an unfamiliar city.

The money Gavin had brought with him managed to last for a while, but pretty quickly, it became a problem.

Of course, Kerry _magically_  had the solution.

It should have been easy, Gavin had seen countless movies where pickpockets just reached into someone's bag and they were suddenly a bit richer.

Kerry had told him it was a good idea, and he got it into Gavin's head that it actually _was_  a good idea.

The man Gavin had picked as his mark looked middle-aged and was distracted by a shop window. It should have been easy to slip by him, take his wallet and bolt.

The first step went easily, but something tipped the mark off and he glared sharply at Gavin as the boy was walking away.

“HEY!” The mark shouted at him.

Gavin panicked. He dropped the wallet on the ground and sprinted down the street as fast as his legs could carry him.

He bolted around the corner and down an alley, hiding behind discarded boxes. He waited for his lungs to recover and listened to the street in tense silence.

A minute passed and Gavin heard footsteps coming down the alley towards him.

He froze.

His heart beat painfully against his ribs.

This was the end, wasn't it?

A woman walked around the boxes and stood in front of him.

Something in Gavin relaxed. His mark was a man, and the woman wasn't looking at him threateningly (though he didn’t know how much he could trust that, really).

“You dropped something.” The woman said, gently throwing him the stolen wallet. Gavin caught it and just held it in his hands. It had to be a trick.

“Thanks.” Gavin said. The woman smiled at him and sat on the ground next to him. She looked about five years older than him (that would put her at twenty-two? That seemed right) and had teal jeans on with a black shirt.

“I didn't take any of the money. You look like you need it more than I do.” The woman continued. Gavin finally looked inside the wallet. There wasn't much (even Gavin knew many people didn't carry much money on them around here) but it was probably enough for food, at least for that day.

“Why did you help me?” Gavin asked, looking at the woman curiously.

“Because you look like you're in way over your head.” The woman admitted. “So what's your sob story? Orphan or runaway?”

“Runaway. I couldn’t stay there any more.” Gavin admitted. Something passed over the woman's face. Something like a memory.

“So, let me guess; you’re sleeping rough because you haven’t got a plan and now you’ve turned to crime to keep yourself alive.” The woman said. Gavin stuttered out a reply, trying and failing to justify himself, but the woman laughed kindly, patting his knee for a second. “Word of advice, get a partner you can rely on. Get them to distract the mark while you take the wallet. At least until you learn to not trip over yourself.” She said.

“You’re- you’re not going to turn me into the police?” Gavin said, feeling like there was something he was missing. The woman smiled at him and it was the most genuine smile Gavin had seen since he’d arrived in that city.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” She asked.

“I’m from England.” Gavin admitted, making the woman laugh again.

“I can tell.” She said. “I mean you haven’t been _here_  that long, have you? In Los Santos.”

“No. It’s been a couple weeks, I think.” Gavin said.

“You hungry?” The woman asked. “There’s a nice diner around here. Let me treat you to lunch.”

“Why?” Gavin asked, not really knowing how to respond to the act of kindness. Despite not being in Los Santos for that long, Gavin still knew that not many people in the city were kind. (And basic, common sense was telling him ‘ _stranger danger_ ’).

“Because you look like you need a good meal and I like some company when I eat.” The woman said, standing up. She extended a hand towards Gavin and Gavin thought about it for a few seconds before letting her help him to his feet.

“You’re not going to kill me or anything, are you?” Gavin asked, only half-joking.

“Nah. I’m not being paid to right now.” The woman said, a subtle joking tone to her words.

Despite that ambiguous and slightly terrifying response, something in him was telling him to trust her. He hoped it wasn’t the same thing that told him to run away.

***

The diner was pretty cozy, and it was busy enough so that their conversation wouldn’t accidentally be overheard.

“What did you mean about not being paid to kill me?” Gavin asked, using the straw to mix the milkshake that the woman (whose name he had learned was Jack) had recommended. He had gotten just a simple vanilla milkshake, while Jack had ordered a strawberry one with whipped cream.

“That’s my job.” Jack replied, looking up at him from her drink. “I’m a mercenary. Kinda.” She admitted.

“So you kill people for a living?” Gavin repeated.

“I take what jobs I can get. Like a criminal handyman.” Jack said, shrugging. “I’m also a very good mechanic.” She said, sounding proud of herself. For some reason, that tickled Gavin and he allowed himself to laugh a bit.

“So you’re a mechanic turned anti-hero?” Gavin asked.

“That makes it sound much cooler that it really was.” Jack said. “So now you know something about me, can I know something about you?” She asked.

“Go for it.”

“Why did you run away? Whatever it was, it must have been pretty bad.” Jack said, sipping her milkshake through the straw.

“I was bullied at school. Hard.” Gavin admitted, suddenly not able to meet Jack’s eye.  “One of them hit me so hard, they gave me a concussion. I think I’ve still got a few bruises. The school wasn’t going to do anything because they didn’t believe me. _Rubbish welcoming_.” The last few words were muttered and Jack barely heard them.

“So you ran away?” Jack asked.

“It sounds stupid when you say it like that.” Gavin muttered, absently stirring the milkshake.

“No, it doesn’t.” Jack promised. “People have run away from less. So what are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know.” Gavin admitted.

“Who was that kid who left you? Before, on the street.” Jack asked suddenly. She was frowning, but not at Gavin. She was probably frowning at her thoughts. “The blonde one?”

“He’s called Kerry.” Gavin admitted. “When I was running away, I met him on the bus. He said we should stick together, so we did. He told me that if I had to survive, then I’d have to start stealing. So I tried to pickpocket that guy, and then he almost caught me and then I met you.”

“Doesn’t seem like that good of a friend.” Jack noted, leaning back slightly as the waitress placed two burgers on the table in front of them. She said a quick thank you to the waitress and turned back to see Gavin’s eyes fixed on his plate in awe.

“Is this for one person?” Gavin asked, looking up at Jack with wide eyes. Jack couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer look of wonder.

“Go on, start eating.” Jack prompted, eating a few of the chips on her plate.

Gavin didn’t need to be told twice. He tried to hold the burger in his hands but quickly realised that it wasn’t as easy as it looked. Growth-spurts hadn’t _really_  started to hit him yet, so he still had his small frame, which didn’t help when he was trying to eat a massive burger with all the fringes on.

Jack looked up at him and laughed when she saw Gavin; his cheeks were puffed out with food and caramelised onion was dangling from his lips. Gavin started laughing too. He was forced to put his burger back down on the plate to cover his mouth so he didn’t spit food out all over the table.

“Try cutting it up, genius.” Jack teased, easily taking a bite of the burger.  Gavin swallowed the mouthful of food and got his knife, slicing the burger in half, with only moderate difficulty keeping it together.

They ate together in a comfortable silence that shouldn’t have existed after knowing each other for under an hour. But the silence that stretched between them felt old, and the idle talk felt natural. It was strange to the young Gavin, but Jack knew that feeling well. She felt it the first time she talked to Geoff.

“Thank you, for helping me.” Gavin said timidly, when they had both finished eating. Jack smiled at him as she caught a waitress’ attention and asked for the bill.

“No offence, but it seemed like you needed a bit of help.” Jack said, barely looking at the bill the waitress handed her before pulling out an old, battered-looking wallet and taking out enough money money for the bill and a pretty sizable tip. “So what are we going to do now?”

“We?”

“With your skills, the next person you try and steal from could easily pull a gun on you, or worse. You’re a good kid, and I don’t want to have to read about you in the news.” Jack admitted, leaning forwards. “I’m offering you a place to crash for a while, if you want it. If not, will you at least let me teach you some skills so you can defend yourself at least a little bit?”

Gavin sat in stunned silence for a few seconds.

Jack’s blunt honesty _did_  sting a little bit (he’d survived everything in life, so far. He had a 100% survival rate) but it was obvious to him that she really _didn’t_  want him to end up dead in a ditch somewhere. Having someone genuinely care for him was pretty refreshing after being acclimated to having to watch his own back in the city.

“What skills? How to work with cars?” Gavin asked.

“I was thinking more how to work a gun or how to pickpocket someone properly.” Jack admitted, a smile on her face. “But we can start with cars, if you want.” Gavin pulled a face and shook his head slowly.

“Nah, I always found Formula One a bit boring.” Gavin admitted. “And now I feel like I need to work on my conman skills.”

“Pickpocketing it is. Maybe I’ll teach you a few other cons as well, if you’re lucky.” Jack said, standing up from the booth. This time, Gavin didn’t hesitate to follow her.

***

“Hey Jack, I’m home.” A voice said, walking through the door to Jack’s. Gavin looked up and saw a man with tattoos beginning to spiral down his arms and a slight beard obscuring his chin. The man walked over to Jack and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. Gavin figured he was the Geoff that Jack had mentioned.  

It was only after that did Geoff finally see Gavin sat at the table opposite Jack.

“Who’s this?” Geoff said, looking directly at Jack.

“This is Gavin. I’m teaching him a few quick cons.” Jack said. “Also, he’s going to stay here for a few days.”

“Jack? Can I talk to you for a sec?” Geoff said, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the bedrooms. Jack turned back to the cards that were laid out on the dining table between them and put her hand face-down on the table.

“Don’t look at my cards.” Jack said teasingly, walking around the table and following Geoff down to their bedroom.

Gavin knew they must have been trying to keep their voices down, but he still heard snippets of their conversation.

_“-picking up strays?”_

_“He’s staying and that’s that.”_

_“Jack, you think this is a good idea?”_

_“Yes. Look, Geoff, he’s a good kid, and he needs someone to look out for him until he’s on his feet. Who knows, maybe you’ll love the kid. Geoff, trust me, okay? You trusted me when we met and look what happened.”_

_“Alright, Jack, I’ll trust you on this.”_

Footsteps came back towards him and Gavin felt someone ruffle his head as they passed. Jack came into his line of sight, smiling at him as she sat down and picked up her cards.

“You better not have looked at my cards.” Jack said, shuffling a few of her cards around.

“Honestly, who do you take me for, Jack?” Gavin said, placing his card down on the table.

“You two hungry?” Geoff asked, walking around to the fridge behind the dining table. He ducked his head inside and pulled out some ingredients, placing them on the counter.

“You hungry, Gavin?” Jack asked, looking down at her cards. Gavin nodded meekly.

“Great.” Geoff said, looking over at the two of them with a smile on his face. “I’ll need some help in a while, but you guys can finish your game first.”

“I’ll have you know, Geoff, that I’m teaching him valuable skills that could one day save his life.” Jack said, rearranging a card in her hand.

“I win.” Gavin said smugly, placing the winning card on the table triumphantly. Jack looked at Geoff pointedly.

“See? Valuable life skill.”

***

Gavin knew he was more than welcome to stay in Jack and Geoff’s apartment, but there was a small, intrusive voice in his head that told him they didn’t want him there. He was a burden. They just pitied him.

It was the same voice that told him to run away from home.

Something deep within Gavin knew that the voice was wrong, but that didn’t stop him from packing up his bag as quietly as he could in the middle of the night.

Jack had taken his dirty clothes and washed them for him using the basement laundromat while Geoff had enlisted Gavin’s help in cooking dinner. (It was one of the best meals Gavin had in his life, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed that hard since he was back in England).

They smelt fresher than they had since he left home, and guilt flooded him when he slung his backpack on and crept out the apartment. The best he had was a half-baked plan in his head to catch a ride out of town.

Even in the middle of the night, there were people on the street and driving around. Gavin walked for as long as he could, following the street signs as best as his limited knowledge of the city allowed and following them to the highway. The terra around the highway became sandier and Gavin saw more trucks on the road, so he decided to test his luck.

He stuck his arm out onto the road like he’d seen hitchhikers do in the movies. By some stretch of luck, it wasn’t long for a truck to pull over next to him.

“Where are you heading?” The man driving the truck asked as Gavin clamboured in. He settled into the seat, holding his backpack on his lap tightly.

“Anywhere that isn’t Los Santos.” Gavin replied, looking out at the night in front of the truck.

“Well, alright kid.” The truck driver said, pulling back out onto the road. “I’ll drop you off with the cargo.”

They hadn’t even been driving for more than half an hour, barely speaking to each other except to swap idle questions and answers, when it happened.

In real time, the whole event couldn’t have taken more than a few seconds (five seconds, tops), but to Gavin it felt like _forever_.

***

First: the driver suddenly yanked the wheel to the side. He shouted something that sounded like swearing and Gavin glanced through the windshield and saw something vaguely humanoid on the road in front of them. (The word ‘ _vaguely_ ’ was important, because even looking back, Gavin had no idea what it was).

Second: the door on Gavin’s side was yanked open and arms were suddenly around Gavin’s chest.

Third: Gavin felt those arms pull him out of the cab into the cool night air.

Four: the truck crashed and exploded.

***

Gavin watched it go up in flames, his lungs slightly restricted by the arms clutching him tightly, almost desperately. He felt the leather sleeves of the jacket the person was wearing against his skin and he was still clutching his backpack in his hands.

The person who saved him was a bit taller than him and Gavin could feel that the person had much broader shoulders than his lanky, teenage self.

_“Don’t trust the voices. They want to hurt you.”_

If Gavin didn’t know better, we would have thought that the words were spoken by the bad voice in his head. But Gavin did know better, and he knew that it was the stranger who saved him that voice belonged to; he didn’t know how they were speaking to him straight inside his head.

Gavin’s vision went black for a second and suddenly he was on a street He recognised in the middle of Los Santos. When it all finally hit him, Gavin staggered over to the side of the closest building and vomited up his guts. His hands braced against the bricks while his stomach emptied itself. His whole body felt weak. The smell of his own vomit made him feel even sicker.

“Gavin?!” A voice - an _actual_  voice - said, cutting through his thoughts. Gavin looked over at the voice and saw Geoff almost running over to him. Geoff’s arms wrapped around him, holding him tightly.

“ _Geoff_.” Gavin said, his voice muffled by Geoff’s shirt material.

“Hey, buddy, it’s okay.” Geoff reassured him, rubbing gentle circles on Gavin’s back. “Let’s go home, Jack’s waiting for us.” He said, stepping back and gently leading Gavin back to the apartment building.

Gavin was still pretty shaky, his knuckles going white as he clutched the backpack, so much so that Geoff wrapped his jacket around him. Gavin took one hand off the backpack and used it to hold the jacket closed.

Geoff held out a hand towards Gavin and Gavin let him carry his backpack as they walked. He flexed his hands and winced at the slight pain in the muscles. Geoff’s free hand was resting on his back, both comforting and grounding. It was something real to hang onto.

When they got back to the apartment, Jack immediately swarmed them, hugging Gavin to her tightly.

“Are you okay?” Jack asked, stepping back and scanning his face for bruises or marks.

“Yeah; I think I’m okay.” Gavin said.

“What happened?” Jack asked, leading Gavin over to the sofa. Geoff had disappeared somewhere when they stepped through the door. As soon as Gavin was sat, Jack grabbed a blanket from _somewhere_  (was it the one he’d been using as a cover?) and wrapped it around him tightly.

“I-” Gavin kept taking a few breaths to steady himself. “I thought it would be easier if I just left. I walked for a while and then I tried to hitchhike, but- But the truck blew up.”

“It blew up?!” Geoff repeated, suddenly reappearing with a mug in his hand. He pressed the mug into Gavin’s hands and Gavin felt something tug in his chest when he recognised the smell of tea. (Why they had tea, Gavin never got round to asking.)

“I think it crashed.” Gavin said.

“So you were in a wreck?” Jack asked, just to clarify.

“No. Someone pulled me out before it crashed.” Gavin said.

“Pulled you out? Of the truck?” Geoff sat down on the sofa next to him, so Gavin was encompassed. “Did you see who it was?”

Gavin just shook his head and drank some of the tea. It didn’t matter that it was hot and that it burnt his tongue; it was the most soothing thing Gavin had ever experienced.

“Thank fuck, you’re safe.” Jack said, wrapping her arm around Gavin while trying not to jostle him too much so the tea didn’t spill.

“Yeah, buddy. Don’t scare us like that, again.” Geoff said, tucking the blanket closer around Gavin.

For some reason, it was those two simple, kind gestures that pushed Gavin over the edge and he felt hot tears start to spill down his cheeks.

***

That night, the three of them slept on the sofa together, huddled under blankets. Neither Jack nor Geoff wanted to leave Gavin alone, and Gavin didn’t want to be left alone. If felt like even after knowing each other for less than a day, they were a unit now. It felt only natural now. Cogs clicking into place.

Those ‘ _few days_ ’ very rapidly turned into a few weeks, then into a month, a few more months, nearly a year, and so forth.

It got to a point around the six week mark, where it just made more sense to move to a bigger apartment so Gavin could actually have his own room, instead of him sleeping on their sofa. (Gavin actually recorded them moving with his camcorder - mostly as an excuse to not have to move the boxes. When he had his own room, he proudly displayed the device on the first shelf Geoff put up for him.)

Geoff and Jack had taken him furniture shopping and within a week of moving into the new apartment, Gavin felt like he had a home again. He sent his parents a letter with a fake return address when they were settled. (He’d tried getting in contact with them before, but there always seemed to be something blocking him).

He told them that he was safe, and that he was sorry that he had to leave, but he was happy in his new life. He told them that he was being cared for and that he would always love them.

Gavin sent the letter the next day. He never got a reply.

On Gavin’s eighteenth birthday, Geoff let Gavin have his first proper drink when they got home from having a nice meal to celebrate. They had agreed that Geoff would buy a bottle of the birthday boy’s choice that Gavin would try, and if he could finish a glass of it, then they’d give him the whole bottle and see if he could finish it. Gavin had seen Jack and Geoff drinking at home and almost felt the need to prove himself.

Surprisingly, Gavin made it through three drinks that night until he felt like he needed to stop. Neither Jack or Geoff said anything about it, and they both switched to non-alcoholic drinks afterwards as well. That had definitely been one of Gavin’s better birthdays.

Gavin’s eighteenth birthday was the same year as Geoff’s thirtieth and that was almost as fun. Geoff would have happily moped around the apartment all day, complaining about being old, if Jack and Gavin didn’t have a whole list of things to distract him with. They pretty much did everything from going to see a movie to getting drunk at their favourite bar (Gavin, not so much), to whatever it was Jack did to him that night.

Gavin was twenty before Jack and Geoff even _considered_  letting Gavin come along with them on a job. Gavin’s apprenticeship with a local computer company was tedious to him and generally just soul-sucking (even if he _did_  learn how to get into some pretty secure databases without anyone knowing, but that’s a different story...)

It was nothing like the rush he got when the three of them went to the shooting range and Gavin practised his aim until his hands felt numb from the recall. He’d tried his hand at using a sniper rifle at one point, and something about it felt almost natural. Geoff commented once that he had good aim, but that he was always aiming too high (his actual words were ‘ _you keep aiming too high, dumbass. Stop trying to snipe the birds_ ’). It was some instinct in Gavin that told him to always aim a little higher, that gravity would work like he needed it to.

His first job went well, just like the second and the third. He got caught with a bullet in the leg on his fourth job so he had to sit his fifth job out, just watching the building through the hacked security feed. His leg was healed by the sixth and Jack and Geoff began to trust him with more important roles on his seventh job and onwards.

By the time Gavin was twenty-three, he’s been on over twenty successful jobs and at least seven unsuccessful.

(He felt that was a pretty good success rate).

Gavin thought that things could only get better. They were always getting better weapons, moving occasionally to better apartments and generally just living better with the money from the bigger and bigger jobs they were taking on.

It never really did work out that way.

***

Gavin honestly thought this job was going to be his last.  

It was easy: storm a building, kill everyone inside, report back when done and collect the money.

The first part had been easy between the three of them. The second part had been a bit of trouble.

They had gotten to the third floor when more people flooded the room they were in and the three of them was forced into a corner, using overturned desks and filing cabinets as a barricade.

“Gavin, are you alright?” Jack asked, ducking back under the cover of two filing cabinets pushed together to reload her semi-automatic. “You’re bleeding.”

“It’s just a graze.” Gavin admitted, his hand going to the wound on his arm and squeezing. He was sat, facing the barricade wall, keeping as low as he could.

“Stay down. Let us get these guys and then you’re covering our backs when were getting out. Got it?” Jack said, twisting back and firing over the side of the cabinet. Gavin saw Geoff do the same, a bit further away.

If being caught in the middle of a gun fight with barely anything at all to defend himself was a weird experience, what happened to him _during_  it would be like an acid trip (and honestly, Gavin wasn’t completely sure that it wasn’t).

One second, he was looking at Jack and Geoff, firing their guns (with a precision that would have been scary if he didn’t know them so well), the next he was looking at two strangers. Except, he recognised them?

Between blinks, the image of two men- no, two kings? (Knights?) were plastered over where Jack and Geoff stood.

The man that took Jack’s place was a few centimetres shorter than her, his hair cut short and a large beard covering half his face. He didn’t look like he was wearing armour in the traditional sense - the armour he _was_  wearing looked like it was made of leather but not like it was designed for any kind of battle. He was also was much… stockier (fatter? It was hard to tell) than _his_  Jack. Also, instead of a gun, this man was wielding a smallsword as if he had been his whole life.

Gavin’s eyes travelled to the man who took Geoff’s place and saw another dark-haired man with an impressive moustache wielding a bastardsword with the same ease as the first man. This man was actually wearing armour for battle. It looked sleek but scuffed up, and it was made up of panels that looked like they were just buckled together for easy assembly. Gavin could see some thick, dark material underneath the armour and an emblem embossed into the chest plate which he couldn’t quite make out.

The weirdest part was that the man and Geoff had the same face.

Even the setting changed in that single second: the poorly-lit room where the fire fight was taking place was hidden by a bright outdoor area with dozens of opponents fighting the two men.

The man, that was Jack just a second before, turned to him and met his eye. Gavin’s chest constricted and he suddenly forgot how to breathe.

“ _GO!_ ” The man shouted at Gavin, suddenly swinging around to stop an enemy blade from hitting the man in Geoff’s place.

“What?” Gavin asked, his chest heaving from panic. He felt something on his shoulder and blinked suddenly.

“Gavin?” Jack’s gentle voice cut through and when Gavin opened his eyes, everything was normal again. Except now there were a lot more dead bodies in the room.

Jack was kneeling beside Gavin, shaking his shoulder gently, sighing in relief when his eyes focused on her. Geoff was stood next to them, his gun aimed down at the doorway, just in case anyone else came barrelling through the doors.

The room was eerily silent after the echoes of gunfire had stopped.

“Jack?” Gavin asked, pulling her towards him in a hug. Jack paused for a second in confusion before putting her arms around him in return.

“What happened, buddy?” Geoff asked, looking over at them.

“I don’t- I don’t know.” Gavin admitted, releasing Jack. She moved out of his personal space, putting her gun on the ground beside her. Gavin’s eyes flickered down and focused on her in horror. “Jack!”

“What?” Jack asked, her face suddenly concerned and confused.

“You’re bleeding.” Gavin said. He saw the edge of a sword peak out of her shoulder and felt bile rise up in throat. Blood pooled in her shirt and Gavin saw it trickle down.

Jack looked down at her shoulder and frowned.

“I’m not bleeding, Gavin.” Jack said, reaching out to Gavin, who was slowly backing away from her. Gavin blinked hard and the image in his head was gone.

“Gavvy, what’s going on? Are you okay?” Geoff had gone from standing up to kneeling beside him, one hand on his back comfortingly.

“I- I don’t know.” Gavin repeated, shaking his head as if that could shake out the images.

“We need to get out of here.” Geoff said, hoisting Gavin to his feet. Jack got up, grabbing her gun and they turned to leave.

Or they would have if Geoff and Jack didn’t both raise their guns at the man blocking their exit. The man was bleeding heavily from a stomach wound and he had one hand pressed to it tightly. His other hand was shakily holding a gun towards them.

His eyes moved to Jack and his face split in a grin.

“Little Jackie! You’ve grown.” The man said, his face softening slightly. Jack’s expression hardened and her aim became sharper.

“How do you know me?” Jack demanded.

“You don’t recognise me?” The man asked. “Maybe you should ask your parents. I was the last thing they saw.”

“Cockbite!” Geoff shouted, firing a warning shot beside the man’s head. “You’re dead as dicks!”

“You were supposed to die then, too, Little Jackie. I was paid for the whole family, anyway. Maybe he’ll give me a bit extra if I kill you now.” The man said, shifting his gun so it was aimed at Jack.

But Jack fired first. The first shot hit his chest.

The man fired a single shot but that was drowned out by Jack walking forwards slowly, unloading the rest of her magazine into anywhere when she could hit the man. While she walked, she put a new magazine in, dumping the old one and resumed firing, not stopping until that one was empty as well and the man was an almost unidentifiable mess of human matter on the floor.

But that wasn’t enough for Jack.

She reached down and picked up a jagged steel bar from the ground. Gavin and Geoff could only watch as Jack swung at the body with the metal. As soon as one hit landed, she was pulling her arm back and bringing it back down.

Blood and tissue was clinging to the metal, slowly spreading out on the floor and ending up on Jack’s clothes (not that she cared at that moment).

Gavin moved to stop her, but Geoff stuck his arm out, keeping him in place. He looked up at Geoff and saw him just shake his head. So they just watched until Jack dropped the bar on the floor, taking a few staggering steps away from the body.

She turned to them and her face was shiny with sweat or tears or both.

“I- I feel better now.” Jack said, looking back down at the body (if it could even be called that). “I think I got it all out of my system.”

Geoff moved towards her. Jack was just facing them when she starting swaying on the spot, looking like she was going to faint. Geoff’s steps turned into a run and he caught her just as she started to fall.

Gavin rushed to his side, tilting Jack’s head forwards and pulling back her eyelid with the hand he quickly had wiped the blood off of. Her eyes had rolled back in her head but her lips were twitching, as if she was whispering. Gavin put his head next to her lips and he heard her saying something that he couldn’t understand. It didn’t even sound English.

“She’s... _Talking_.” Gavin said, straightening up and looking at Geoff with wide eyes. Geoff looked from Jack to Gavin.

“What the fuck is going on?”

***

Jack woke up on the ride back to the apartment.

Geoff and Gavin would have expected Jack to wake slowly, like any person waking up. Neither of them expected to hear a sudden gasp and for Jack to sit up suddenly in the back seat that they had carefully laid her across.

Geoff had to swerve the car suddenly to avoid crashing while Gavin turned in his seat to look at Jack.

“What happened?!” Gavin asked. Except his accent always thickened when he was distressed so it sounded more like ‘ _Wot ‘appened?!_ ’

“Geoff, pull over.” Jack said, a hand covering her mouth. Geoff did as she said and pulled out over an alley. Jack practically tore open the door and bolted down the alley, away from the street. They followed her quickly, catching up to her as she vomited inelegantly against the wall.

Geoff turned and went back to the car, returning with a bottle of water that he handed to Jack when she stood back up. She took a swig and spat out the water onto the pile of sick. The smell hit Gavin and he took a few steps back, coughing dangerously.

“Jack, are you okay?” Geoff said, stepping forwards and holding her shoulders. She winced and Geoff noticed a dark patch on her shirt for the first time. “Shit. We’ve got to get home.”

Jack nodded and they all retreated to the car, thankful not many people were on the street. Geoff didn’t take his foot off the gas pedal until they were at the apartment building.

As soon as Gavin had opened the door, all three of them threw themselves into work. Jack pulled out a chair by the dining table and Geoff grabbed the first aid box. Gavin disappeared to get some towels.

He came back to see Geoff sat opposite Jack, gently peeling her shirt off and dumping on the ground. They’d have to get rid of it anyway.

“Gav, can you get something to numb it?” Geoff asked, barely looking up as Gavin placed the towels on the table beside him.

Jack let out a soft laugh when Gavin pressed a bottle of vodka in her hand and unscrewed the top for her. She took a huge gulp of the drink, only blanching a little bit at the taste.

“How’s your arm, Gav?” Geoff asked, carefully inspecting Jack’s wound while he took a pair of tongs out of the first aid kit. The bullet must have still been in her shoulder.

“It’s just a graze.” Gavin said. “It’s barely bleeding anymore.”

“You should still clean it and put a fresh shirt on.” Jack said through gritted teeth.

“We’ll burn the clothes when I’m done.” Geoff said. “I think there’s a fair amount of incriminating evidence on you, Jack.”

“I’ll put them in a bin bag.” Gavin said, feeling a little bit useless when it came to thing kind of thing. His gag reflex could barely handle people _talking_  about disgusting things, let alone being confronted with someone extracting a piece of metal from another person.

Gavin dug around in one of the kitchen drawers and pulled out a black plastic bag. He pointedly looked away when he walked back to where Geoff and Jack were, picking up the ruined shirt and stuffing it inside.

“Seriously, Gav, make sure that wound’s clean. Last thing we need is it getting infected.” Geoff said, looking over at Gavin as he did clean up. Geoff was pressing a towel to Jack’s shoulder and Gavin glanced at the bloody bullet that was in a small plastic cup on the table.

“Alright, Geoff.” Gavin said, putting the bag down and going into the bathroom.

Gavin stood in front of the mirror and unbuttoned his shirt. The graze turned out to be a little deeper than he thought, but it _had_  stopped bleeding and really, it wasn’t all that bad.

He bunched his shirt up and dropped it on the floor, opening the cabinet and pulling out a roll of bandages and antiseptic. While they all realised early on that Gavin couldn’t handle minor surgery (performing it or even being around when it was _being_  performed), Geoff and Jack made sure Gavin could at least clean small wounds and that he knew the theory behind removing bullets and sewing up the wounds.

It didn’t take long for Gavin to clean up the graze and wrap it in some bandage.

The muscles in his arm were aching a bit but Gavin just popped some painkillers as he moved into his bedroom and grabbed a new shirt, sliding it over his arm carefully.

“Gav!” Geoff called. “You okay, buddy?!”

“Top!” Gavin called back, doing up the last few buttons of his shirt. He walked back into the dining room and saw Geoff placing a large, square plaster over the stitches in Jack’s shoulder. She looked a bit pale, but other that that Jack seemed like herself. Strangely _normal_  considering she beat a man to death with a metal pole.

“Can I ask you guys something?” Gavin said, taking a seat around the table.

“Go ahead, Gav.” Geoff said, cleaning up the first aid kit and stowing the towels in the bag with Jack’s ruined shirt.

“Why the bloody hell did you do that, Jack?” Gavin asked.

“Gavin,” Jack said, shifting in her seat so she was sat up a bit more. Her hand went to her shoulder unconsciously. “When I was seventeen, a man broke into my parent’s house and killed them. I heard the gunshots and hid under my bed. They- That was the night I started living with Geoff.”

“And the man you beat to a bloody pulp?” Gavin said, prompting Jack to continue her story. Jack nodded.

“He was the one who did it.” Jack confirmed.

“Okay, my turn to ask questions now.” Geoff said, sitting back down on a chair that faced both Jack and Gavin. “What the _fuck_  happened with you two? First, Gavin has an episode in the middle of a job, then Jack's passing out after beating someone into a pulp-”

A knock at the front door actually made Gavin jump and he stood up to open the door. Geoff ran his hands over his face in exasperation and Jack patted his knee comfortingly with her good hand.

The door swung open on Gavin and two men were stood on the other side. One had dark auburn-y hair while the other's was just dark. The auburn haired man beamed at Gavin, even as his eyes flickered passed him to Jack and Geoff. Gavin closed the door enough so that they weren't visible.

“Can I help you?” Gavin asked, a tad testily.

“Hi to you too, asshole.” The auburn man said. “What? You don't remember us?”

“Gavin, open the door.” Jack said, standing up and walking towards the door. Her hand went to her shoulder again clutching it protectively.

“Jack, what are you doing?” Gavin asked, turning his face away from the door to talk to her.

“Gavin, let me see them.” Jack insisted. Gavin did as she said and stepped back, letting Jack stand in the doorway. Jack’s eyes scanned the two men but her gaze settled on the auburn one who claimed that he knew them. The man’s face grew worried the longer Jack’s scrutiny carried on.

“Michael?” Jack asked, her eyes scanning every inch of his face. The man’s - Michael’s? - eyes scanned Jack, a small frown creasing his eyebrows. Gavin could see the cogs turning in the man’s head and saw it click when his face broke out into a wide smile.

“Holy shit, Jack.” Michael said, taken aback but ecstatic at the same time.

“CAN SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT THE _DICKS_ IS GOING ON?!” Geoff shouted, still sat at the table.

“It’s complicated, dude.” The dark haired man said, looking at Geoff sympathetically.

***

_“Time’s running out. Feeling scared yet?” A figure said, facing another that was just as mysterious._

_“Not at all.” The Second said._

_“They’re starting to remember,” The First reminded the Second. “If they figure it out before his fortieth birthday, then you’re pretty much fucked. And now they’ve found each other...”_

_“I still have time.” The Second said. “I would have got that little British one if you hadn’t pulled him out the truck. I don’t have to remind you that you almost broke the rules doing that. You_ did _talk to him.” The Second began to walk leisurely around the First; the steps they took were slow and steady enough to put the First on edge._

_“I was warning him. That counts as protecting.”_

_“What about your Watcher for him?” The Second said, growing more smug the more agitated the First became._

_“Dan did all he could.” The First said. “You played a bad move for him and Dan did what he could.”_

_“Hey, it’s my job to shake things up. Cause a little chaos. Make_ your _life difficult.” the Second said, definitely more smug. “Make sure they_ die _.”_

_“They won’t die!” The First snapped. “I won’t let them die.”_

_ “You mean you won’t let  _ your _  one die.” The Second practically whispered, their voice hissing into the First’s ear. The First spun around to confront the Second, but they were alone.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters take longer to edit then they ever do to write, I s2g


	3. M.J - The Warrior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh god I hate editing this thing ;_______;
> 
> warning for drug use and attempted suicide for this chapter

_"You really don’t think this one needs a Watcher?”_

_“He already has one. Just not one of ours.”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“Our Watchers have to assimilate into their lives somehow and watch over from there, but all they do is just observe and advise. This one has a Watcher already. More than one, actually.”_

_“Oh. So we just check in occasionally? That’s it?”_

_“Oh, no. We’ll still make sure he’s safe, but if he’s anything like he was... I’m sure he’ll be just fine without us.”_

_“You said that about the oldest and you still gave him a Watcher.”_

_“That Watcher was just a precaution. Gus didn’t stick around for that long, now did he?”_

_“I guess so.”_

_“Trust me. He’ll be just fine.”_

_“What about if he starts to remember? Who will stop it until the time is right?”_

_“Why stop it? If any of them can handle the knowledge before the time is right, it’s him. Trust me. We should let him remember.”_

_“If you think it’s a good idea…”_

_“It is. I know it is.”_

***

If there was one word to describe Michael as a young child, it would probably be ‘ _scrappy_ ’. If not, then ‘ _absolutely full of rage_ ’ would suffice (even if it wasn’t actually _true_  for a lot of the time).

His mother was always cleaning his wounds and grazes, telling him not to start fights with his brother or with the kids at school, eventually grounding him when he didn’t listen.

But there was just always something in Michael that flared up when presented with a fight. Any time he saw bullies, he felt something in his chest ignite. Even if they left him alone and bothered someone else, Michael’s hands curled into fists and his blood raged in his veins.

He remembered his mother kept a photo of Michael on the wall at home. In it, he was missing a tooth and he had plasters over his face where he’d gotten small scrapes and cuts from a fight, but Michael had the biggest grin on his face.

***

Michael had a lot of friends, even more acquaintances, but he never really felt like he had a _best_  friend.

Maybe the closest he’d ever come was with his older brother. All throughout their childhood, they’d had play fights almost non-stop and they’d always played on the same team with the other kids on the block. Yeah, there was a bit of rivalry, but it never escalated to anything other than basic sibling rivalry.

At the end of the day, they knew when to celebrate the other’s achievements and how to cheer the other up after a failure.

In fact, it was to his brother that Michael confessed about his weird dream that he seemed to have every year. Every time it was the same setting, same characters, but always different.

The first dream came to him when he was twelve.

In the dream, Michael saw his twelve year old self standing in a sunny courtyard somewhere, standing next to a large tree that seemed to make up part of the outer edge of an orchard.

Except it wasn’t quite him. It _looked_  like him, but the Dream Michael was decked out in what looked like pelts and fur. His clothes were probably some kind of hide, his boots looked like they were crafted out of leather and a thick belt covered the majority of his stomach, dipping low onto his hip on one side.

Michael saw a small dagger hanging at the Dream Michael’s hip and a hood pulled up over his head, shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight.

The Dream Michael was frowning up at the tree in front of him, his eyes focused on something between the leaves.  

“What are you doing up there?” Dream Michael asked, partly confused and partly annoyed.

A figure suddenly appeared. They were hanging upside down from one of the lower branches. Their green-patterned tunic hanging down so their stomach was exposed; their green trousers were covered in mud marks and their hair was hanging straight down. The person’s face was split in a massive grin.

“Aww, how’d you see me?” The person asked, still hanging upside down and looking at Dream Michael. They had an accent that was foreign to Michael and sounded both regal and a bit ridiculous, with weird inflections as they spoke. They kept missing out the ‘ _T’_ s in words.

“Your hair. It is not leaf coloured.” Dream Michael said, crossing his arms over his chest. The way the Dream Michael held himself was almost proud and regal, his chest puffed out and chin tilted up. “Why are you in a tree?” He asked, his frown still prominent.

“I got bored waiting for everyone else.” The person admitted, shrugging even though they were upside down.

“You are meant to be a prince. You should not be playing in trees.” Dream Michael said, obviously disapproving of the other’s tree-climbing habits.

“Yeah, but that just means I have to wear my little crown sometimes and wear a suit tonight at dinner.” The other said, swinging themselves up and turning so they were sat on the branch and looking down at Dream Michael. “You know, the _boring_  stuff.”

“You will be a king one day. And kings do not go climbing trees.” Dream Michael said.

“Maybe yours doesn’t.” The person said cheekily. “And anyway, I’m not a king yet. I can climb _all_  the trees I want.” They added, a kind of sing-song lilt in their voice.

“You are immature.” Dream Michael said factually.

“I’m twelve. And _you’re_  not that much older than me.” The person countered. “Come on, climb some trees with me.”

Dream Michael looked behind him at a pair of large double doors that seemed to lead straight into a castle-like building.

“What if our fathers see us?” Dream Michael asked, turning back to look at the person in the tree.

“But they _won’t_.” The person promised, bringing their legs up so they were perched on the branch like a bird. “Come on, Mogar; just for a while.”

“If they see us, I _am_  blaming you.” Dream Michael threatened, finding some footholds and scrambling up the tree so he was sat on the branch next to the person. “This is a stupid idea, Gavin.”

The person’s - Gavin’s - grin just became wider, if that was even possible.

“It’s a great idea.” Gavin insisted, crouch-walking along the branch and quickly jumping to the next tree, grabbing another branch to steady himself. “Come on! Let’s go exploring.” He shouted back to Dream Michael, disappearing between the branches and leaves again.

Then Michael woke up, feeling confused and cheated and with another strange emotion in his chest. (He still didn’t know if his dream self followed the person.)

His brother just thought that he should probably stop reading so many fantasy books. Maybe he was right. After all, it was just a silly dream.

***

During his high school years, Michael’s mother suggested that he should put all his fighting energy into a club. Something like wrestling.

And Michael did.

He still had the trophies from his competitions in his mother’s attic. There were less cuts and scrapes during his high school years, but Michael still wasn’t one to stray away from a fight. His hands had permanent scars from impromptu fist-fights and there was a small, deep scar on his hip by the time Michael graduated high school.

He almost hoped that the more _normal_  he kept his life, the less the weird dreams would happen, but he just wasn’t that lucky.

As his teenage years passed, Michael had more dreams like that; all of them on the same day every year.

Always in that courtyard, usually involving the trees and orchard, and never without that person dressed all in green. Except it wasn’t a solid green, it looked something like a modern camo pattern, but more _earthy_. Like the whole point of it was to blend into the world around him.

The next few dreams were pretty much like the first: Dream Michael saw that Gavin person in a tree and they went off on a little adventure. The Dream version of himself seemed to age with him and slowly mature along with Michael.

The first dream that didn’t fit that pattern happened when he was seventeen. It was the night after he’d won another wrestling competition (by a landslide, but who’s bragging) and in the euphoria of victory, Michael had forgotten what the date was.

He fell asleep easily and his mind’s eye opened to see that all-too familiar orchard.

Dream Michael looked different, though. He was still wearing his hood, but it was pulled down around his neck, exposing his head. The hood looked like it had the top half of a bear head attached to it. (Hopefully it was fake and just decorative).

Red tribal markings were painted delicately on his cheeks and they swirled all down his bare torso and exposed arms. The markings were incredibly elaborate and obviously had some major significance that was lost on the Real Michael experiencing the dream. From the definition in them, they could have been dyed onto his skin. Maybe they were even weird old-timey tattoos.

Dream Michael was looking up at the tree again, but his face was soft. He had a red gem stone of some kind hung around his neck and his dagger had been replaced with a sword that looked like it was made out of some _seriously_  tough material. Something like diamond.

“Come down.” Dream Michael said. If he didn’t know any better, if would have sounded like a plea. “Your father wants to talk to you.”

“Tell Geoff he can come out here and talk to me himself.” Gavin said. He was sat along one of the thick branches in the tree, his back against the trunk. His outfit had only changed to accommodate for his change in stature over the years, but it did now have a leather belt around his waist with pouches tied to it and a strap that looked like a lopsided ‘ _Y'_  across his chest and back that was used to attach a quiver to. Lengths of white cloth were wrapped meticulously around Gavin’s hands and forearms and he had a scarf with the same texture pattern as his tunic wound around his neck.

“Gavin, do not make me come up there and get you.” Dream Michael half-threatened.

“Mogar, just bugger off, alright.” Gavin said, pulling his scarf up to cover his mouth and nose.

“You are a crown prince! You cannot _sulk_  in a tree forever.” Dream Michael called up to Gavin.

“Yeah and you’re a king now and you’re having an argument with someone in a tree.” Gavin shot back. Dream Michael sighed and turned to the person next to him.

The person next to Dream Michael was almost exactly his height and probably his age but they couldn’t have looked more different. The person was wearing something that looked like a tux, but not quite. It was more royal than a tuxedo.

They had a cape draped from their neck that was jet black on the outside with a vibrant red, inner lining. A rose was attached to their lapel and an elegant rapier was strapped to their side, easily accessible but non-threatening. The most defining thing about the person, though, was the thin, intricate circlet that fit snugly around their head. It looked like vines of some kind with leaves dotted around it.

It matched their weapon very well.

“Can you talk to him, Ray?” Dream Michael asked, looking at the other person imploringly.

“If he doesn’t want to come down from the tree, maybe we should get the Gentlemen.” Ray said, speaking loud enough so that Gavin obviously heard. Gavin made a sighing noise in the tree and deftly climbed down the trunk, standing in front of the other two. He kept the scarf covering his face, but he looked at them with sad eyes. Something in his body language just seemed to incite pity.

“Fine. I’ll go with you to the War Room.” Gavin relented. Ray stepped forwards and put his hand on Gavin’s shoulder, leading him back inside the castle. Dream Michael walked beside them, staying close but keeping a respectable distance at the same time.

His gait hadn’t changed over the years: Dream Michael still walked proudly and royally, but the more the years passed, the _wearier_  he looked.

The castle around them was _massive_  and beyond anything Real Michael had ever seen in his real life, but none of the three took any notice. They were long used to the splendour.

The three stopped outside a set of heavy oak doors and Gavin looked at them with a hint of fear in his eyes.

Dream Michael put his hand on Gavin’s shoulder and their eyes met for a brief moment.

A loud crash of thunder woke Michael up and he sat bolt upright in his bed. A thin veil of cold sweat coated him and he felt his chest heave.

Nothing about the dream should have made him feel like that, but it didn’t feel like _dreams_  any more. And that was the most terrifying thing about the whole situation.

***

The last dream of significance happened a few days after Michael graduated high school. It didn’t follow the pattern and it happened months too early.

This time, the orchard was nowhere to be seen and the dream started with Dream Michael storming down an elaborate hallway with expensive artwork and tapestries hanging on the walls and beautiful stained glass mosaic windows.

Dream Michael looked like he did when he was seventeen, except a tad taller and with more defined muscles visible on his bare chest. He still had the red markings all along his body and face and the red jewel bounced against his chest as he moved.

He came up to a pair of heavy-looking doors that seemed familiar and Dream Michael didn’t even hesitate before he shoved them open with all of his might.

“Why did I not know about your plans?” Dream Michael demanded, the doors to the War Room opening wide enough to hit the wall. Three Gentlemen’s heads all turned to look at him.

“Mogar, please calm down.” The oldest looking said, trying to defuse the situation before it even began. He had an impressive mustache and what looked like traditional tattoos on his hands. His hands and face were the only parts of him that weren’t covered by some form of armour.

“You had plans for an attack and you kept them from me. Even Ray knew about the plan.” Dream Michael stopped in front of the large, heavy table and brought his fist down on it. The wood cracked under the force, but only one reacted. The one who did was a fairly large man who was standing openly and whose beard covered half of his face.

“Mogar, there’s a reason we didn’t tell you about them.” The third man said, his voice gentle and unprovoking. He looked the most clean-shaven, with his blond hair combed away from his face and his clothes pristine. He looked like he wouldn’t last two minutes of the battle field, but there was something vicious in his eyes that said otherwise.

“I am a _king_! I am a part of this peace agreement and I deserved to know!” Dream Michael continued.

“The reason we didn’t tell you is because I was going to ask you to do something different, Mogar.” The first man said. Dream Michael stayed quiet, letting the man talk. “The plan is for Jack, Ryan and I to lead half our tropes directly forwards and half of them around the sides. Ray is going to try and infiltrate the enemy forces during the night to give us some form of an advantage. I didn’t want to put you out in enemy territory. I wanted you to stay behind and make up our defensive line.”

“There is something more.” Dream Michael said, squinting at the man suspiciously.

“I want you to stay here with Gavin. The Lords know I love him like my own son, but I refuse to let him on a battlefield. If Ray manages to learn anything, then he will come back and join you at the defensive line.” He said.

Dream Michael stayed quiet for a moment more, letting his anger dissipate.

The man, who must have been Jack, stepped up to him and placed his hand gently on Dream Michael’s shoulder. The look on his face was sympathetic and that was comforting for some reason.

“I know you want to prove yourself, Mogar, but you’re still young.” Jack said. “You don’t have as much experience with full-scale attacks and with this, _all_  of our kingdoms are threatened. If, Lords forbid, anything _were_  to happen to any of us, we want you and the other Lads to be able to continue being the strong kings you _are_  and _will_  be. We want you safe, Mogar.” His voice was genuine and Dream Michael almost looked ashamed for his outburst.

“Do not talk like you think something _will_  happen, King Pattillo. We all have faith in your skill.” Dream Michael said, trying for humour. It paid off and Jack laughed lightly.

“We can’t all be born into a warrior tribe. Some of us are just simple farmer kings.” Jack said, retracting his hand and turning back to the map of the land that was stretched out on the table in front of him. There was almost something sad on his face, but it was gone before it even began.

Michael woke up, confused and a bit disorientated.

That was the last dream for a very long time.

It was pretty hard to dream after finding his brother dead in the front yard the next morning.

***

His mother asked him if he wanted to say a few words at the funeral, but Michael just refused. Anything he felt he could say, he didn’t want to say in front of a crowd of people.

He’d just lost his brother; no one needed to know just how not-okay he was with it.

The funeral happened pretty quickly. Closed casket, beautiful flowers, everyone dressed respectfully in black.

Michael spent the whole time pointedly not looking at the sleek oak casket that sat a couple yards from him. He pointedly didn’t look at the large picture of his brother’s smiling face.

His father was the one to lead him outside when it was time to lower the casket in the ground.

Michael stayed a few steps away and he didn’t want to look.

If he wasn’t watching, maybe it wasn’t happening. If he didn’t have to see his brother’s body be buried, maybe he wasn’t even buried.

The next day, the grave was freshly buried and the headstone was erected, boldly displaying his brother’s name and two dates. The words ‘ _Beloved brother and son. He was taken too soon_ ’ were carved into the stone intricately.

Michael stood there, his hands buried deep in his pockets and a beanie holding down his hair. His eyes kept reading the stone, over and over and over.

He sat down on the ground, his legs folded and his hands clutching his knees. He felt like a little kid, but that felt about right.

“Hey man,” Michael said awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “How is it over there? Is it cool? I bet the video games suck.”

“Look, man.” Michael said, letting his chest hurt for the first time since they found him. “I miss you. I miss you so fucking much.”

He fell quiet for a few minutes, looking at the ground.

“Remember that time we went on vacation and I fell and broke my leg?” Michael asked, looking up sharply at the headstone. “You gave me a piggyback all the way back to mom and dad. And remember when your girlfriend broke up with you? I convinced dad to take us to that baseball game where you caught the ball. It’s shit like that that makes me really fucking miss you.”

A cold breeze ran over him and Michael shivered. He had school in a couple hours, he should be leaving soon. But he didn’t want to leave the quiet cemetery for the too loud world outside it and the overly sympathetic words from neighbours and friends and the borderline-patronising ‘ _it’s okay to cry_ ’s from his girlfriend.

“I’ll get them, I promise.” Michael said, looking at the stone intently. “I’ll get those fuckers. I swear on everything important; I _will_  find who did this for you.”

A figure stood at the edge of the cemetery, watching the boy sat in front of the headstone and they felt a sadness settle over themselves. They watched as Michael stood up, wiping his face furiously.

Michael turned to walk back to his car, but something caught the corner of his eye. He looked over at the low wall that enclosed the gravestones. He thought he’d seen someone standing there, but he shook his head to himself when he knew he was alone.

The ride to school was quiet, and Michael willed the redness in his eyes to retreat before he arrived at the school gates.

***

Somehow, Michael managed to put all his mental energy onto his move into college. In the haze of packing up his room and buying the essentials and moving into his dorms and starting college classes, Michael almost managed to distract himself from the headstone with his brothers name on it.

Almost.

***

Later, Michael found out that there were a fair few people who expected him to drop out before he graduated (some of the meaner folk expected Michael to end up with a criminal record by the time he finished college, what with his ‘ _quick-temper_ ’ and all) but they were all wrong.

(Michael’s college degree still hangs on his wall proudly, and occasionally he thinks about everyone who thought or said those kind of things about him and feels even more smug.)

If there was one thing Michael likes more than a fight; it’s winning it.

After college was done and won, Michael managed to snag a job working as an electrician's apprentice. Honestly, it was interesting enough (and he met some really sweet old ladies who needed their lights rewired) but he only realised what really made his heart light up when one of his colleagues took him to a monster truck rally one weekend after work as a thank you for covering for him.

It wasn’t the trucks that Michael fell in love with; it was the pyrotechnic stunts during it.

During school, they’d done about combustion reactions and Michael always loved watching fireworks on the Fourth of July with his family, but something about the raw, uncontained _energy_  of an explosion just spoke to him.

He started doing some research on pyrotechnics, even going so far as to buy himself some thermite (not _totally_  legally) and carefully experimenting with it in an abandoned factory on the edge of town.

It was actually around this time that Michael met Ray. A mutual friend had introduced them during a Call of Duty game and they’d gotten on like a house on fire. They’d met up later that week and played a few games together. Somehow that game session ended with them exchanging skype names and making plans to play again together the next day.

And thus, a beautiful friendship was born.

***

When Michael was 21 and found out that Ray was trying to find a job after he was fired, it seemed natural for him to suggest they find a place together. And it seemed natural that Ray would agree, and by that point it was expected for them to find a little two bedroom apartment in New York.

Michael snagged a new job working with a demolition company and Ray got a job at a local gamestop.

It worked for both of them: Ray got be surrounded by games and Michael got to blow shit up. It was a win-win situation.

If only it could have lasted.

***

Close to six months after they moved in together, Ray met someone who told them about this exclusive club and even though neither of them were really club people, somehow Michael was convinced to at least check it out.

The outside looked unimpressive, and the line to get in was short. Michael looked around skeptically. ( _This_  was the great new nightclub? It looked like some shitty warehouse).

All his doubts were erased when they saw the inside.

It looked like the level of luxury they could only dream of attaining. Black lights illuminated neon painted bodies on the dance floor and curtained rooms lined the back wall.

But something felt _wrong_ , and Michael had gotten used to trusting his gut.

“I don’t think we should be here, Ray!” Michael shouted, trying to be heard over the sound of the music.

“What?!” Ray shouted back, his eyes snapping to Michael from a point across the room.

“I think we should leave!” Michael shouted again, putting his mouth closer to Ray’s ear so he could be heard.

“We just got here!” Ray replied. “Look, why don’t you go get a drink! I saw my friend over there, I’m going to go say hi!” He barely gave Michael any warning before he moved, pushing his way through the masses of bodies towards someone that Michael couldn’t pick out of the crowd.

He found himself alone and decided the maybe he _should_  just get a drink.

Compared to the dance floor, the bar was much less crowded and Michael got served almost immediately. He held the beer tightly as he slowly drank it. Something about the club put him edge.

Something about the whole thing just felt _off_.

Michael scanned the club and his eye caught something. Or he thought he saw something. No, he _definitely_  saw something. Some _one_.

They were looking at him, signalling him to follow.

Michael put his half-finished beer back on the bar and followed the person. He pushed his way through the dance floor, feeling bodies press against him uncomfortably, pushing him into smaller and smaller places. _Pushing_  him into people, _pushing_  against him, _pushing-_

It was almost a relief to push open a set of doors and feel the cool night air against his skin.

The person was stood there, creepily silhouetted  in the dark alley Michael had stumbled into.

“Okay, who are you and why are you being a creepy fuck?” Michael demanded, making himself seem braver than he felt.

“ _Watch Ray. He’ll need you. Stay with him when he does._ ”

It sounded like the words were being said directly into his mind, but that was ridiculous. That didn’t happen.

“You’re being really fucking creepy right now.” Michael said, meaning to make it sound like a warning.

“ _Don’t abandon him. Ray needs you, Mogar._ ”

That name settled heavily in Michael’s chest.

_Mogar._

He knew that name. He knew that name really fucking well.

That was _his_  name.

No.

His name was Michael. Michael Jones.

He was Michael Vincent Jones. Born in New Jersey, living in New York, King of his tribe.

Wait, what?

“I’m Michael! Don’t call me Mogar!” Michael demanded, looking up at the person, He tried to meet their eye, but there was something obscuring their face that made it impossible to pick out any features. “Why are you calling me that? That’s not who I am anymore. I mean- ever! I’ve never been a Mogar!”

The person moved closer to him and they stood face to face. Michael could see what was obscuring their face. It looked like a helmet made of thick, black, and swirling smoke that never seemed to dissipate. It might have had a shape to it, but Michael couldn’t see it in the dark light of the alley.

“ _Find him, save Ray; then find them. Find the rest of them. You will understand then._ ”

The person turned and walked away, leaving Michael alone and confused in the alley.

“Who the fuck is ‘ _them_ ’?” Michael asked to no one.

***

Disappearing in the afternoon and not coming back until the early hours of the morning became something of a habit for Ray over the next few weeks.

He lost a lot of weight and Michael couldn’t get any straight answers out of him when he asked where Ray was going.

Ray grew more secretive, staying locked in his room when he was in the apartment. He stopped picking up his phone, didn’t answer his text messages. He didn’t go to work and Michael grew increasingly worried.

The faceless man’s words of ‘ _don’t abandon him_ ’ rang in Michael’s head as he watched his best friend waste away.

He felt helpless. But that felt about right.

***

It took three months for Ray to do the inevitable.

He almost overdosed.

Michael found him in his room, a needle aimed at a vein in his arm.

“Ray!” Michael shouted. Ray’s eyes snapped up to look at him. His hand dropped the needle and it landed on the bed beside him.

Ray mustn’t have heard Michael calling out for him when he was running out the door. Either that or he ignored him.

(It was probably the latter).

***

There was a knock on the door in the early hours of the morning and Michael didn’t know what to expect.

What he certainly _didn’t_  expect was that faceless creep to be stood on the other side of the door, holding a passed out Ray in his arms.

“ _I told you to save him_.” The person said, walking into the apartment and carefully laying Ray on the sofa. Their movements were much gentler than he expected when they took Ray’s glasses off his face and placed them on the coffee table.

“I didn’t kick him out! He left and I couldn’t find him! I looked for him for _hours_!” Michael defended, shutting the door harder than he meant to. (His neighbours would tell him off tomorrow for that.) “Why the fuck do you care, anyway?”

“ _He is alive. Keep him that way, Michael_.”

“Seriously, why the fuck do you care? Who the fuck are you?! Why are you still in my house?!”

“ _The time is not right. Find the others, and I’ll tell you. Until then, do as I say._ ”

“Whoa, _shit_ , are you threatening me?” Michael demanded, taking a half-step backwards.  The person was definitely bigger than him and Michael never liked feeling at a disadvantage.

“ _No. I’ve never threatened you_.” The person said/put the words into Michael’s brain. “ _Please protect him_.” They finally looked away from Ray’s sleeping form and turned their head in Michael’s direction.

“Do you even know us?” Michael asked.

“ _Yes. I knew you all very well_.” The person admitted. “ _If you remember your dreams then you would know._ ”

“What the fuck do my dreams -” Michael started, suddenly stopping like he’d hit a wall. All those weird teenage dreams came flooding back to him. The tree, the orchard, that boy in green...

“ _You remember now_?” The person said. “ _Find them. The ones from your dreams_.”

“You sound like the fucking Riddler.” Michael said sharply. He looked at Ray and felt all the anger leave him. “If I knew what these fuckers looked like, then I could find them. I don’t even know their names.”

“ _Ramsey_.” The person said. “ _Find Ramsey. Then you will find the others_.”

“Thanks, that’s a big fucking help.” Michael muttered.

“ _Right now, Ray is your priority_.” The person said. “ _He will need your support and your care. Keep him clean. Keep him alive._ ”

“Like I’d let my best friend die.” Michael said, scowling at the man.

“ _It wouldn’t be the first time._ ”

Michael didn’t know how to respond to that.

***

Michael waited the whole night for Ray to wake up.

He stayed awake the whole night before, curled up in the chair and watching Ray in fear. He should have been there. He should have been with him. He should have followed him. Made sure Ray was safe. Noticed sooner. _Done something_.

Ray started to stir and he looked over at Michael blearily. His arm reached out and tried to search around for his glasses, but Michael stood up and held them out for him. Ray slid them on his face and blinked up at Michael.

“I want you to quit.” Michael said, clearing his throat when it sounded a bit hoarse.

“Quit what?” Ray asked, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

“Quit _drugs_ , you asshole.” Michael snapped. “You nearly _died_ , Ray.”

“I didn’t.” Ray muttered, sitting against the back of the sofa.

“Why-” Michael said, feeling his anger begin to interrupt his speech. “Why the _fuck_  did you do it, Ray?”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Ray said, bringing his knees up to his chest.

“Fucking try me, Ray.” Michael said, challengingly. “I’ve had some pretty fucked up shit happen to me. Try me.”

“I keep seeing things, Michael.” Ray admitted, after a long, long silence.

“Like what?” Michael said, his voice softer.

“There this guy.” Ray said. “I always keep seeing him around, but I have no idea what he looks like.”

“Does he have no face?” Michael asked. Ray’s eyes widened in surprise and he looked over at Michael, shocked.

“How the fuck do you know that?” Ray asked.

“I’ve seen him too.” Michael admitted. “He’s a creepy fuck, Ray, not gonna lie.”

Ray laughed at that and Michael felt better. He knew Ray wasn’t totally gone.

“Seriously, though, Ray.” Michael said when the laughter had quieted down. “Why did seeing that guy make you take drugs? Was he trying to stalk you?”

“No,” Ray said, honestly. “He wasn’t some crazed stalker, but ever since I started seeing him around, I’ve been having these really weird dreams. It’s like, I’m this king and there’s a bunch of other kings and we’re all trying to defend our kingdoms together. It’s really fucked up.” Ray ran a hand through his short hair as he tried to recall details of dreams he tried so hard to forget.

“Ray,” Michael said, sitting on the edge of his seat. He had to know. “How many other kings? Apart from you.”

“Five, I think.”

“Three older, two your age?” Michael asked, feeling his heart speed up in his chest.

“Yeah.” Ray said, looking at Michael in a way that was both confused and surprised. “Michael-”

“Hold on,” Michael interrupted. “Listen, can you remember any of the names? Absolutely any of them?”

“I-” Ray paused, looking almost pained. “I can’t remember all their names. But I remember one of them was called Michael.” He looked over at Michael, judging his reaction carefully. Michael sighed and ran his hands over his face.

“Ray, I think we’ve been having the same dreams.” Michael admitted, looking up at Ray. He felt _tired_  all of a sudden.

“What the fuck?” Ray blurted out.

“Okay, let’s see how much we both know.” Michael said, sitting up a bit straighter. “Was there a guy called Gavin in your dreams?”

Ray nodded slowly.

“Me too. He was an annoying little prick.” Michael said automatically, trying for humour. “Who else? Um, was there a guy called Jack?”

“I can’t remember.” Ray admitted, racking his brains trying to remember. “I only remember you and that Gavin guy.”

Michael nodded thoughtfully.

“At least I’m not the only crazy one around here.” Ray said, tilting his head back to the ceiling.

“Maybe that’s why we’re such good friends.”

***

The wind ran through Michael’s hair as he looked over the city. He was much higher up than he felt comfortable with, but desperate times…

His jacket did nothing to keep out the chill in the air but Michael didn’t care. He spread out his arms to his side and stepped up to the edge of the rooftop.

The sensible voice in his head was telling that this was a stupid theory to try out. And for the most part, Michael _really_  agreed with that voice. But he had a theory to test out, and if it failed, well…

Michael took a breath and shut his eyes.

He felt himself sway  on the spot.

His eyes flew open again when he felt arms wrap around his middle and pull him far away from the edge of the roof.

“ _What are you doing?_ ” The person with no face said, releasing Michael when they were sure he wasn’t in danger anymore.

“Trying to get your attention.” Michael said. “You don’t exactly have a phone number I can just call, jackass.”

“ _How is Ray_?” The person said.

“He’s clean.” Michael said. “Took a while, but he’s clean now.”

“ _Then why did you try and find me_?” The person asked, their voice a tad confused.

“I want to know.” Michael said strongly. “I know my dreams aren’t just bullshit fantasies. Ray’s had the same dreams; same people, same setting. That’s no fucking coincidence. I want my memories back.”

The person was quiet for a while, obviously thinking things over.

“ _There is a way_.” The person admitted. “ _I can’t tell you how to do it, but I can place you at the start and you can figure it out_.”

“Well, let’s do it then.” Michael said. He wanted more than anything to _know_ , to _understand_. He had an entire life before this, he wanted to remember that fully; not just in his dreams.

The person put their hand on Michael’s shoulder and Michael was about to ask what they were doing before the world went black for a second.

The blackness left as quickly as it arrived and Michael found he was stood outside a beat-up apartment door in a shitty building that looked like it violated every single health code.  

“ _I will be there when you understand_.” The person said, standing next to Michael. They extended their hand and held out a small gun to Michael. It didn’t have a lot of bullets and it didn’t look all that powerful, but Michael still took it and held it loosely in his hand. He noticed the silencer attached to it.

“Why am I even here?” Michael asked, looking at the person.

“ _The man who lives in this apartment is the man who wronged you_.” The person said.

“What the fuck do you mean, _wronged_  me?” Michael demanded.

“ _It’s the man who killed your brother_.” The person said.

Michael felt his blood boil in his veins and his chest ignite with an old rage. Suddenly, it was hard to him to breathe. He checked the bullets in the gun and forced his hands to be still.

He took a final, deep breath and tried the door handle of the apartment. It swung open under his touch and Michael didn’t look back as he marched in, slamming the door behind him.

***

Blood dripped down Michael’s hands, leaving small stains on the carpet beneath him. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath.

The empty gun lay discarded a couple feet away and Michael looked down at the dead body on the floor between his feet. His veins still felt hot and Michael realised he’d missed this: the adrenaline, the _thrill_  of a fight, the sharp scent of blood.

He looked up at saw that same faceless figure standing in the room with him. If they had a face, maybe they would have looked sad.

“Okay, what now?” Michael asked, standing up properly. He had blood staining his shirt and jeans and they stuck to his skin uncomfortably. His head felt like he had a migraine coming on and Michael wanted to hold his head but he stopped himself.

“ _Just wait_.” The person said, stepping forwards. “ _Three, two_ -”

“Wh-” Michael felt his mind shut down and the world faded to black.

***

All he saw was darkness for a good few seconds until images started to form in front of his eyes. Michael knew what they were straight away.

_Memories._  

The stream of memories (they sure as fuck weren't dreams anymore) played in front of his eyes like an old, crackly film reel on fast forwards. He saw glimpses of the people from his dreams, of the people he'd seen all his life but never knew. He saw himself growing up like a time lapsed video.

From childhood to adolescence to adulthood.

Or as close to being an adult as he got.

Michael felt like he could reach out and touch it; interrupt the flow of the memories and grab one.

So he tried to.

He got a few memories. A few random, unrelated memories, but all of them from his adult life.

The first was like a scene from a period drama, where the heroic King was suiting up in the heavy armour up for battle. Except it was different.

That Michael was alone in a large, luxurious room that didn’t feel like it was _his_. He was carefully and methodically putting on pieces of armour that looked like they were made out of a special, tough leather.

His forearms were covered in that special leather that had been formed into gauntlets, and his legs were covered in the same material. The tattoos on his body seemed brighter somehow, and there were some more in shades of green and blue. Those new tattoos looked like they were meant to be some kind of war paint, especially with the colours smeared across his eyes and cheekbones dramatically. The bright fire in the corner of the room illuminated the red gemstone that rested just below his bare sternum.

A thick belt was fastened tightly around his hips and a great sword was fastened to his back. The only reason it didn't cut him to ribbons was because of a leather sheath that had straps circling his torso.

Michael picked up a large hood with a bear's face and looked at it for a moment. He pulled it on over his head.

_Mogar._  

So _that_  was who he used to be.

***

The second memory looked like it could have been from later that day (night?). He wasn't alone in that memory.

The castle courtyard was filled with people fighting and people fleeing.

Michael was running with the crowd, trying to get lead them somewhere they would be safe. Except he turned off sharply, dragging someone with him; Gavin (that was his name, right?)

The boy was dressed in his green camouflage, his scarf wound around his mouth and the ends falling down his back. His tunic and loose pants seemed the same as ever, but now baggy chainmail hung over his torso. A rudimentary armguard, that was the same shade of green as his tunic, was strapped to his forearm snuggly.

It was by no means pitiful armour, and Michael understood when he saw the full quiver of arrows on his back and the bow held tightly in his hand.

“Where are you going? I was told to keep you safe.” Michael said, glad for the noise of the running crowd to drown out their conversation.

“I can't sit around and do nothing, Mogar. I'm the best shot in the whole kingdom, I can help!” Gavin protested.

“No. You need to stay safe.” Michael reiterated, grabbing his arm and going to pull him back into the crowd. Gavin pulled his arm free, taking a half-step back.

“You lot always seem to think that I'll mess up. That I'll shoot myself with my own arrow somehow. But I can _help_. I can be useful. And it's not fair that you lot can risk your lives and I'm sat here like a numpty.” Gavin said.

“I do not know what that is.” Michael admitted, unfazed. “But your king has given me orders-”

“Since when do you follow Geoff's orders?” Gavin interrupted. “He's not _your_  king. Come on, Mogar, I can do something. I can be _useful_.”

Michael thought for a few seconds, his internal conflict showing on his face.

“What will you do?” Michael asked, slowly. “You cannot fight well in direct combat.”

“I'm going to the turrets with some of the other archers.” Gavin said. “I'll lead them and we'll provide cover for the Gents in the courtyard.”

Michael nodded slowly. He thought for another few seconds before he reached up and pulled his necklace up over his head clumsily. He held it in his hand and let the uncut gemstone hang between them. The gemstone was heavy and glinted faintly in the dark light.

Michael stepped forwards and looped it around Gavin's neck, guiding it so it hung down his chest.

“A promise.” Michael said solemnly. “That we will see each other again.”

“Mogar-” Gavin seemed utterly lost for words. His eyes were wide and he couldn't look away from Michael's face. Michael’s hand reached out and grabbed Gavin’s arm, just below his wrist. Gavin’s hand gripped Michael’s in the same place.

It was a simple gesture. It meant solidarity. It meant hope. It meant trust. Gavin looked almost overwhelmed by the gesture.  

“Go. I will see you at first light.” Michael said, running down the corridors to find where Ray had led the people.

Gavin had stood in that corridor for a few seconds more, before he took off at a run towards the turrets.

***

A third memory played for Michael and he knew straight away that it wasn’t a happy one.

Michael was stood in front of a large tree that he’d seen a dozen times before. He was looking up and he saw who he was looking for.

Instead of saying anything or shouting up to them, Michael just climbed the tree with ease and settled himself on the branch next to the person.

“I- I am sorry.” Michael said slowly, his hands resting in his lap. His tattoos seemed too bright for the mood. He had black paint making simple shapes on the skin of his chest and forehead that Michael knew meant mourning.

“It’s not your fault, Mogar.” Gavin said, leaning against the tree. His head was tilted back and he was looking through the leaves.

“King Pattillo is looking for you.” Michael said, fidgeting with the hem of his pants.

“I know.” Gavin said. He looked like he’d been crying.

“You should go find him. You need each other.” Michael said gently, finally looking up at Gavin.

“I don’t want Jack. I want Geoff back.” Gavin said, his voice breaking and fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. Michael pulled Gavin closer to him and held his head against his chest while Gavin mourned for his loss.

Gavin’s arms clung to Michael’s hood and he rested his forehead on Michael’s shoulder as he caught his breath back.

“Sorry…” Gavin muttered, pulling his head back and furiously wiping his face. “How’d you even know I’d be here?”

“Your hair still is not leaf coloured.” Michael said. Gavin let out a sharp breath that was probably meant to be a laugh.

“Sorry for crying on you.” Gavin apologised again, looking sheepish now. “That’s not very king-like.”

“You are not a king just yet.” Michael said, the faintest hint of a smile on his face. “You still have some time.”

“Well, the coronation’s tonight.” Gavin said. “Can’t afford to leave the kingdom king-less for too long when we’re still under attack.”

“You will be a great king, Gavin.” Michael promised him. “I know you will be.”

He reached out towards Gavin and Gavin took his arm, grasping it near his elbow. Michael’s hand did the same, his palm warm against Gavin’s skin.

“You will rule fairly and your father will be as proud of you in death as he was in life. You have proved that you can fight, and your subjects will follow you.” Michael said, keeping his gaze steady with Gavin’s. Gavin looked down, but Michael gently tilted his face back up. “Do not doubt yourself. You will be great.”

“Thank you, Mogar.” Gavin said quietly, blinking back tears.

“Gavin? Mogar? Is that you in the tree?” A new voice said, drawing the two tree-dwellers attention. It looked like the man Michael had seen his dreams as a child. King Pattillo.

“Yeah, Jack. We’ll be right down.” Gavin said, already dropping down from the tree. The older man was dressed all in solid black, with a small silver pin over his heart to break the monotonous ensemble. The mourning attire of the man’s kingdom.

Michael lingered for a minute, watching King Pattillo pull Gavin into a fierce hug. Both of them held the other like they were the only family they had left in the world.

Maybe that actually was the case.

***

The rest of the memories played so fast that Michael couldn’t see any more that were distinctive. The reel must have ended because Michael felt his eyes open and saw the smoke mask staring back at him.

“ _Do you understand now_?” The person asked. They helped Michael to his feet, making sure he was steady before stepping away.

A sudden wave of sickness hit Michael and he ran to the kitchen sink before he let his nausea empty his stomach.

When he was done, he stepped back from the sink, wiping his mouth with the corner of his sleeve. He turned on the tap and rinsed the worst of the blood off his hands.

“ _Better now_?” The person asked.

“Yeah.” Michael said, looking over at them as he wiped his hands clean on a dirty towel. “I need to talk to Ray.”

The person nodded and put their hand on Michael’s shoulder again. When he opened his eyes again, he was stood outside his own apartment and he was alone.

Michael turned the doorknob and pushed the door open so forcefully he almost toppled forwards.

“Ray!” Michael called out, scrambling into the apartment, barely shutting the door behind him. “I need to borrow your computer!”

“Hey man, what’s going on?” Ray asked, stepping out with his laptop in his arms. He was wearing his hoodie with the hood up over his head. “Why are you covered in blood?”

“Don’t have time to explain, I need to borrow your laptop.” Michael said, reaching for the laptop in Ray’s arms. Ray moved out the way, looking at the bloodied clothes with not so faint horror in his eyes.

“You’re not touching my laptop when you’re covered in blood!” Ray protested.

Michael groaned in annoyance and just stripped off the bloodied fabric until he was stood in his boxers. He looked at Ray expectantly and Ray just frowned. But he couldn’t fault him (he _had_  removed the blood, after all) and hesitantly held out the laptop.

Michael took the laptop off him and sat on the sofa, keeping it on his lap.

He felt Ray sit beside him as he pulled up a browser and typed two words into google.

_GEOFF RAMSEY_

“Michael, who are you looking up?” Ray asked as they waited for the page to load.  

“This is going to sound crazy, but he’s one of the guys from our dreams.” Michael admitted, looking at Ray. “And those dreams are actually memories.”

“Hang on.” Ray said. “Let’s backtrack for a minute. Those fucked up dream are actually memories?”

“Yes.” Michael confirmed, still looking at the screen and beginning to scroll through all the results.

“How do you know this?” Ray asked.

“Okay, this is going to sound even more crazy-” Michael began.

“Fucking try me dude.” Ray interrupted.

“Well, I killed the dude who murdered my brother and now I have memories of a past life.” Michael said flatly, looking over at Ray.

“Okay, you take the crazy trophy.” Ray admitted, looking at the computer screen again. “Now, who’re you looking up again?” Ray’s ability to just roll with a situation was the main thing that Michael deeply admired about him.

“No Face gave me a name when you almost OD’d a while ago. Said to find this guy called Ramsey.” Michael admitted. “And since I have my memories back, I know the first guy’s name is Geoff.”

“Okay, so let’s find out about Geoff.” Ray said, putting the laptop half on his leg.

Michael scrolled through a couple links and clicked one that looked promising. It led to a twitter account, of all things.

The avatar was of a melted crayon and the actual twitter handle was @DGgeoff. Classy.

Ray looked over at Michael skeptically.

“This is the guy from your dreams?” Ray teased.

“I have no idea, there’s no picture of the guy.” Michael said, scrolling through the tweets.  Some were generic tweets about life, but one managed to catch both their attention.

‘ _.@LSPD next time you try and arrest me, can you actually have some evidence._

_I know I’m hot as hell, but you have to learn to share ;)_ ’

The tweet seemed odd out-of-context, but it was enough to make the young men interested.

“He’s tweeting the police directly? The guy’s either crazy or ballsy as shit.” Ray commented as Michael scrolled through some more of the tweets.

The next one that made them pause was a picture.

It was a photo of a woman holding an RPG to her shoulder, aiming at the city. They were probably on a hill, judging by the distant houses in the background and the skyline behind the woman. The woman was wearing a button up shirt and shorts and her hair was bushy enough to cover her face (or was that the wind?). The tweet connected to it really cheesy.

‘ _What a beautiful weapon (and the RPG’s not bad either)_ ’

“ _Smooth_.” Michael said, a smirk on his face. “Do you think he’ll teach me how to pick up chicks?”

Ray brought the laptop fully onto his lap and clicked on the photo, enlarging it.

“Does she look familiar to you? Maybe she’s important.” Ray said.

“All the guys in our memories, were _guys_.” Michael pointed out. “I don’t remember any of them being girls.”

“It’s the twenty-first century, dude.” Ray said. “Things have changed.”

“You’re telling me.” Michael said, taking the laptop back so he could scroll down the tweets again. “ _Oh shit_.”

“What?” Ray asked, leaning over so he could see the screen.

“That’s him.” Michael said, pulling up another tweet with a photo.

This one was a retweet that he was mentioned in. It was a picture of that Geoff guy and another guy with a big nose, both of them wearing sunglasses and obviously a bit drunk. Geoff’s sunglasses were bright pink and the other man’s were gold, oversized and obnoxious.

“That’s Gavin.” Michael said, reading the tweet attached to it. It was written by an account called @JackP.

‘ _This is what three bottles of Jack does to a man. (And a Gavin) @DGgeoff @GavinoFree_ ’

Geoff had replied to the tweet and added;

‘ _Four bottles of Jack and you make me a man_ ’

“Man, this Geoff guy’s cheesy as shit.” Ray said.

“Bigger picture, Ray.” Michael said. “ _That’s_  him. _That’s_  the annoying prick. That’s _Gavin_!”

“Holy shit,” Ray said, his eyes flickering over the image. “ _Vav_.” He breathed. Michael didn’t comment. He clicked onto the other account and started looking through the tweets.

They were pretty generic but there were a fair few tweeting the LSPD or displaying pictures of new guns (including a golden flare gun that just had the words ‘ _Flare Gun of Pimps_ ’ attached to it) and a few drunken pictures that he probably should have deleted.

“These guys are pretty obvious about this shit.” Ray said. “I mean, who tweets at police that they’re doing illegal shit?”

“They’re in Los Santos.” Michael said, looking at the account bio and seeing the location.

“You think they know something? About us, I mean.” Ray asked, looking at Michael.

“Maybe they have their memories as well.” Michael said, looking back at Ray.

“Dude, as far as we know, only _you_  know about what the fuck our dreams are.” Ray said.

“Do you want your memories back, Ray?” Michael asked suddenly.

“I don’t know, dude.” Ray admitted. “You came home covered in blood and saying you had your memories back.”

“Dude, Creepy No Face basically told me that you have to get revenge to get your memories back.” Michael said. “Maybe we have to find the person who fucked you over the most and you’ll get your memories back.”

“Who’s fucked me over the most though?” Ray asked.

“Well, for me, it was the guy who murdered my brother. Anything like that happen to you?”

“The only thing that’s happened to me was accidentally getting addicted to drugs.” Ray said, his voice turning monotone while he spoke. The wound was still pretty fresh, even if it was months old.

“Well, let’s find the guy who gave you the first hit.” Michael said, closing the laptop lid and standing up.

“What if that doesn’t work?” Ray asked. “Then we’d have killed someone for no reason.”

“But if it works, then we’ll have some more answers, Ray.” Michael said. “Look, do you want a professional opinion?”

“What?”

“I can get Skull Face here and ask him.” Michael said.

“No. I think we can handle this ourselves.” Ray said, a bit too quickly. “If you think it’ll work, then…”

“I’ll go put some pants on.” Michael said, disappearing into his room.

***

By the end of that day, Ray had his memories back.

By the end of that day, there was another dead body in the world.

By the end of that day, Michael and Ray had made plans to move to Los Santos.

***

“This is the place?” Ray asked, looking up at the apartment building. It was a pretty nice building (better than their apartment in New York) and situated in a nice part of a bad city.

“This is their last known address.” Michael said, looking up the building again. He lifted a hand to his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun.

“Which apartment was it?” Ray asked, walking up to the doors.

“Not sure. I know it’s the second top floor.” Michael admitted, following Ray inside. They rode the lift in silence and stepped out into an empty hallway.

There was a faint smudge of blood on the floor that most people would have missed. But Michael knew Ray never missed a trick.

“Is that blood?” Ray asked, scuffing at the mark with the toe of his vans. It was still wet, since Ray was able to smudge it along the ground further.

“Follow the blood red road, I guess.” Michael said, spotting another tiny blood spatter further down the hallway.

The trail led to an apartment door and they both exchanged a glance before Michael knocked on the door. It only took nearly thirty seconds for the door to open and a familiar face was stood on the other side.

Michael could stop a grin coming over him and he looked over Gavin’s shoulder at the people in the apartment behind him.

_Geoff!_

Michael felt his chest lighten when he saw the man’s face. There was a woman sat beside him but Gavin closed the door enough to block her before Michael managed to place her.

“Can I help you?” Gavin asked, his voice tight with annoyance. Michael’s heart sank. He hadn’t thought about if they hadn’t remembered _him_.

“Hi to you too, asshole.” Michael replied, going for humour instead of anger. This wasn’t the time or place to get angry. “What? You don’t remember us?”

Gavin opened his mouth to respond but another voice cut him off.

“Gavin, open the door.” A slightly higher voice said, coming closer to the other side of the door.

The door was pulled open a bit and woman was stood there in just a bra and shorts. She had a large plaster over her shoulder and one hand was pressed against it. The woman’s eyes flickered between them and her gaze settled on Michael. That gaze was intense and familiar in a way that poked at the memories in the back of his mind.

“Michael?” The woman asked, her eyes scanning his face critically. It felt like a literal connection in his brain was made and he understood.

“Holy shit, Jack.” Michael said. He didn’t mean to sound so surprised, but his mental image of Jack wasn’t a bushy-haired woman in her bra with residue of blood on her shoulder.

“CAN SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT THE _DICKS_  IS GOING ON?!” Geoff shouted, his voice coming from inside the apartment.

“It’s complicated, dude.” Ray said, looking into the apartment at Geoff, who was sat at the table.

“Get in,” Jack said, pulling the door open and beckoning the two in with her good hand. Michael and Ray hurried inside, standing between Gavin and Geoff as Jack shut the door.

“Seriously, who are these guys? Jack, do you know them?” Geoff demanded, sounding like his voice was going to crack.

“Okay, Geoff, what I’m about to say is probably going to sound crazy.” Jack warned, moving so she was stood in front of Geoff’s chair. “When I passed out, I remembered that we all had a past life. _All_  five of us in this room used to know each other. We were royalty. I don’t know _how_  or _why_  we’re here now, but that how I know Michael and Ray. And I think that’s why Gavin freaked out during the job today.” Jack said.

Geoff held her gaze for a very long time. He must have decided she was being truthful because his gaze shifted to Gavin.

“Is she right, Gavvy?” Geoff asked. Michael was surprised at the affectionate nickname. (Then he remembered that they were father and son in their past life, even if they weren’t related).

“I don’t know what I saw. One second you two were shooting, the next there were two blokes swinging swords around and chopping people to bits.” Gavin admitted, looking back at Geoff.

“Well, I guess that’s that then.” Geoff said, standing up. He stood in front of Michael and Ray, probably sizing them up. “Jack, what do you think?” He asked, looking over at Jack quizzically.

Jack nodded solemnly, her eyes flickering to the two newcomer.

“Well alright then.” Geoff said. “You two can take the guest room for the night. It’s late and I have a million questions for you fuckers that I’m not drunk enough to handle yet. So here’s what we’re going to do; Jack’s going to take some fucking strong painkillers, you two are going to take the guest bedroom or the couch, we’re all going to go the fuck to sleep and then in the morning, we’re going to work through this clusterfuck. Got it?”

Michael suddenly felt at home, for the strangest reason.

***

_“They're altogether now.” Joel said, looking over at his companion._

_“I know.” The companion said._

_“The time’s almost right. You’re going to have to face them again.” Joel said._

_“I know.”_

_“You’ve already talked to Michael. The rest of them should be-”_

_“I said I know, Joel.” The companion snapped. “But I need just a little bit more time.”_

_“You don’t have any more time.” Joel pointed out. “You’ve got five years, if that. And he’s closing in every day. Didn’t he almost get Ray a couple months ago?”_

_“Yes._ And _he took Gavin out of the safety of his parents home._ And _he almost blew up Gavin when he was seventeen._ And _he almost had Jack shot with her parents when_ she  _was seventeen._ And _he almost got Geoff murdered multiple times when he was just trying to survive. The only one he hasn’t tried to directly kill is Michael, and that’s only because he knew that I was so close to him because he didn’t have a Watcher.”_

_“All the more reason for you to hurry up and get to them.” Joel said. “If you’re there then he won’t try. You’ll be like their guardian angel.”_

_“Ha. As if I’m any kind of angel.” The companion said. If Joel didn’t know any better, he would have thought that the tone was rueful._

_But he did know better, and he knew that the tone was in fact sorrowful._

_“Well it’s better you find them now before they’re dead.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now the actual plot can begin...


	4. J.P - The Homemaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took so long to actually write and upload I'm sorry  
> A-Levels are a much bigger challenge than I thought, so updates are definitely going to be few and far between

_“They’re together?”_

_“I’m aware of that.”_

_“What do we do, V?”_

_“I need you to get the others. All of them. Every Watcher I had assigned. And I need you to get them_ here _by the morning.”_

_“Absolutely all of them? That’ll be tough.”_

_“I know you can do it, Dan. I need all of them here before I can meet them. If we’re going to tell them, they should know everything.”_

_“Everything?”_

_“Everything, Dan.”_

_“Well alright then.”_  

***

“Geoff? Can you give me a hand getting changed?” Jack asked, trying and failing to undo her bra with one hand.

“Sure.” Geoff agreed, walking up behind her and deftly unclasping the bra. He helped guide it off her arms, avoiding the stitching with practiced care.

Jack picked up the shirt Geoff had put on the bed for her and held the collar in her hand.

“Need some help with that too?” Geoff asked, taking the shirt from her and opening it.

“Have you suddenly gone shy on me, Geoff?” Jack teased, noticing the way Geoff stood where he couldn't see her chest.

“It's called being a gentleman.” Geoff replied, just as teasingly.

“We’ve been together for how long?” Jack pointed out, more amused than anything.

“That means I can’t treat you right?” Geoff asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

He put one of Jack's arms through the armhole and moved around to guide the other in. The circular path he took around her was complete when he was facing her, one hand on either hem of the buttons.

Geoff helped Jack carefully slide the clean, button-up shirt over her shoulder, moving her injured arm as little as possible. He did the buttons up carefully, leaving the top few undone.

Jack undid the button of her pants one handed and let her shorts fall to her ankles. She kicked them back, sliding into their shared bed.

Geoff quickly undressed, stripping down to his underwear and getting under the covers as well. He lay on his side, looking at Jack.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” Geoff asked. Jack knew why he was fussing, but it was still endearing.

She shook her head, messing up her hair on the pillows even more.

“I think I just need some rest.” She admitted. Geoff nodded and leaned over to shut off the lamp, throwing them into darkness. He shuffled closer, putting his arms around Jack comfortingly. Jack's good arm encircled Geoff and she rested her head on his bicep.

She could feel the painkillers start to work, but something was bothering her.

“Geoff,” Jack said, breaking the silence of the room. “There’s something I never told you.”

“Yeah?”

“The night when my parents were murdered, two people broke into my house.” Jack said, her arms tightening around Geoff. “I was still asleep when the first person came into my room. He shook me awake and covered my mouth so I couldn’t make any noise.”

Geoff felt his chest tighten as Jack talked. He was suddenly very afraid of what Jack would tell him.

“I couldn’t see his face, but he told me to hide.” Jack continued. “For some reason, I trusted him.  I hid under my bed and then I heard the gunshots in my parent’s bedroom. When I tried to see the guy again, he’d disappeared. That was when the door opened and the prick who shot my parents walked in. He looked in my room and I thought he would find me, but I think the first person made some noise outside to distract him. Everything went silent for a while and the first guy came back. He told me to get somewhere safe. So I went to you.”

“ _Jack_ ,” Geoff whispered, pulling her closer to him.

“And that night when we were cornered in that alleyway, when I still worked for Joel, do you remember how that guy just fell forwards with knives in his back? I think it was the same guy.” Jack said, resting her forehead on Geoff’s chest.

“The same guy?” Geoff repeated. “Who do you think would do that? Try to save you and then kill someone for you? A friend of your parents maybe?”

“I don't know, Geoff.” Jack said. She had said the sentence so many times to herself that she believed it now.

“Go to sleep, Jack.” Geoff prompted, carding his fingers lightly through her hair, like he used to do when she cried. “We'll figure everything out in the morning.”

***

Jack dreamed of her death that night.

She saw a battlefield in her dreams, and bodies swarming on it. She saw flashes of metal against metal so bright that it almost blinded her.

There were two people that Jack was drawn to. She recognised as one of them as herself - Jack the _King_ , but she couldn’t place the other.

He was blonde and wearing virtually no armour - not like the kind she was wearing, at least - but his blade was cutting down the enemies around him with a ferocity that she wouldn't have expected just by looking at him.

Jack watched as her past self and the stranger fought together, almost standing back to back. Something in her chest felt tight at the scene and she didn’t know why.

A cry echoed from somewhere in the direction of a large castle that Jack had only seen in her recently recovered memories and she saw both the people on the battlefield pause in horror.

Jack watched as someone ran at her, forcing the end of their blade through her neck.

She winced at the memory of it.

The other man ran to her, swiftly downing her attacker and gently laying her to the floor. The other soldiers around her closed in, forming a protective barrier around them.

“Jack!” The man exclaimed, tearing off a strip of material from his kilt and tying it around her neck to try and stem the flow of blood. “It’s okay, you’re going to be okay.”

“I thought you only lied to your enemies.” Jack heard herself try to say, though it must have hurt her to even try to say the gargling words. She could see small beads of blood dribble out the sides of her mouths  as it soaked the material tied around her neck.

“HELP ME GET HIM BACK TO THE CASTLE!” The man shouted, trying to life Jack’s body up off the ground. Jack barely heard what the man was now saying furiously under his breath but it could have been an apology.

The edges of the memory began to fade into white and Jack watched as the dream ended the same moment her past life did.

***

Jack woke up early the next morning in an empty room.

That in itself wasn’t as unusual as most would think. There had been countless times when Geoff had woken up before her and deposited money, or gone out to buy groceries or even do a small job that only required the one person. Usually there’d be a small, handwritten note or a text waiting for her when she woke up.

Jack turned her head and smiled when she saw the curled up piece of paper resting beside a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers. He really was too good for her.

What a weird thought; a hardened criminal who killed and dealt drugs for a living always left her little notes for when she woke up so she didn’t worry.

Jack downed the painkillers, already starting to register the ache in her shoulder. She carefully unfurled the note attached to it.

_Jack,_

_If I’m not there when you wake up, then I’ve gone to talk to someone who might know something about this clusterfuck. Don’t worry, they’re friendly. I should be back before you wake up, but if not, tell Gavin not to worry, and tell Michael and Ray that when I get back, we all need to share information._

__

He didn’t sign it, but he never did anymore. Who else would be leaving Jack notes?

Jack swung her legs off the side of the bed and pulled on a pair of baggy pyjama bottoms. It was a pain to tie them one handedly, but Jack didn’t mind that they were a bit loose.

The sun was just beginning to break over the city skyline and Jack allowed herself a moment to watch it. One thing she would never get tired of was the sunrise in the city. Something about it just _called_  to her. (Maybe that was why she stayed).

Gavin was already up when Jack walked into the kitchen.

He looked tired, and he was nursing a can of redbull between his hands, but he still smiled brightly at Jack when she walked in.

“Morning Jack.” He said.

“Morning Gav.” Jack said, affectionately messing up his hair as she walked past to sit on a seat opposite him at the breakfast bar. “Geoff’s gone to talk to someone.” She relayed the information easily, resting her forearms on the table in front of her. Gavin nodded.

“I managed to catch him on the way out.” Gavin said, taking another swig of the energy drink. Jack wondered how he could stomach that stuff that early in the morning.

“You didn’t sleep again, did you?” Jack asked, fixing Gavin with a particular look that she _knew_  the Brit couldn’t lie to. Gavin dropped his gaze, one finger tapping out a strange tune on the side of the can. “Was it nightmares?”

“Not this time.” Gavin admitted. “I couldn’t stop thinking about what I saw on the job yesterday. That bloke looked _exactly_  like Geoff. Same face and everything. And I saw you get stabbed Jack. It felt so _real_.”

“It was real.” Another voice said, catching them both off guard. Jack looked up and saw Michael standing awkwardly by the door. He was in his clothes from the day before and he had his hands tucked into his pockets.

“What do you mean?” Gavin asked, swiveling in his chair slightly to look at the man. Jack looked between them. There was something there that she couldn’t put her finger on.

“Jack _did_  get stabbed through the shoulder. _Before_. It was during some big fight and I remember Jack running to you. Someone got through a weak point in the armour.” Michael said, keeping his focus on Gavin.

“Wait, so you mean that other bloke…” Gavin began.

“That’s Jack. _Was_ , at least.” Michael said, nodding solemnly. A smirk quirked his lips. “I’ll admit she’s changed a bit.”

“Well, I lost a bit of weight,” Jack joked, knowing exactly what he was saying. The Jack she used to be was a _King_. A man. Except it didn’t feel that way to her. She felt the same as she did in her memories.

“Do you want something to eat, Michael?” Gavin asked, remembering his manners. His accent twisted the name Michael so it sounded like ‘ _Micool_ ’ and for some reason Jack found that a tad charming. No matter how many years he’d lived in the States, Gavin’s roots just clung to him and only seemed to show at particular moments.

“I’m good.” Michael said, but he did take a seat next to Jack. “So what’s the plan?” He asked, ready to get down to business.

“When we’re all together, we’re going to sort out what the fuck has happened. I think you might have some more answers than we do.” Jack admitted. Michael nodded solemnly. his thumb was running absently over a small scar on his knuckle and Jack wondered vaguely how he got it. “How did you find us?” She asked.

“I’ve been wondering about that to, to be honest.” Gavin admitted, finishing off his drink.

“Geoff really needs to make his twitter private.” Michael said. “It took about a year, but we finally found you and here we are.”

“Well how did you get his name? From your memories?” Gavin asked, turning slightly so he was facing Michael fully.

“I got it from No Face.” Michael said. He must have realised after a few seconds that he was the only one with the faintest idea of who ‘ _No Face_ ’ was. “He was this guy that always turned up when we were in trouble. He had this like, _mask_  or something covering his face.” His eyes flickered to Jack and she quickly neutralized her expression.

“Hang on,” Gavin said, also catching her expression. “Jack, do you know who he’s talking about?”

“I do.” Jack admitted, but she wouldn’t say much else.

“Okay, now I get to ask you guys something; which ganglord do you work for?” Michael said, shifting the conversation.

“We don’t work _for_  anyone.” Gavin said.

“We do jobs for whoever pays the most.” Jack said. “I guess you already know what we do.”

“Well, you don’t exactly hide it.” Michael pointed out.

“Hide what?” Geoff asked, walking into the kitchen. He was carrying a cup holder with five drinks wedged into it, the last one balancing precariously between the other four. “I got coffee, by the way.” He said, putting the tray on the breakfast bar.

“So that’s why you took so long.” Jack said, accepting the coffee that Geoff had passed to her graciously.

“You got us coffee?” Michael asked, surprised as he took the drink from Geoff. His eyes darted to Gavin, who was happily picking up his fancy, overly-complicated drink from the holder.

“Yeah. I didn’t know if you liked anything specific so I just got you black coffee. We have sugar and cream in the fridge if you want it.” Geoff said. He paused and looked at the rest of them. “Where’s Ray?”

“Still hibernating.” Michael said, putting the coffee cup on the counter. “I’ll go wake him up.”

Michael left the room and the three of them were just left in their own company.

“So how’d your meeting go, Geoff?” Gavin asked, drinking his coffee slowly and savouring the fancy taste.

“Gus didn’t know anything.” Geoff said, taking a drink of his own coffee. It was probably milky but sugarless: his coffee of choice.

“Nothing at all?” Gavin repeated.

“Nothing at all.” Geoff confirmed. “Looks like we have to figure this out ourselves.”

“Well there are three people here with their memories back,” Jack pointed out. “I think we can figure it all out.”

“Or it could be like the blind leading the blind.” Gavin pointed out.

“Yo, I heard there was coffee.” Ray said, as a way of greeting. Geoff held up the last coffee cup and Ray took it from his gratefully. His glasses were slipping down his nose and his hair was messy from sleep. “ _Ahhhh_ , that’s the good shit.” Ray said, taking a long drink of the coffee. The muscles in Michael’s shoulders tightened for a moment but he relaxed so quickly Jack thought she might have imagined it.

“So, Geoff, I hear you have questions.” Michael said, picking his cup back up and sitting down on a seat by Gavin. Jack noticed that Michael still kept a respectable distance between them, though she could tell that it was a forced action.

“Fuck yeah, I do.” Geoff said, sitting in the empty seat beside Jack. They were sat opposite the three younger men and Jack felt a flash of a memory pass in front of her eyes.

She blinked and saw one young man dressed in a tailored, vibrant tuxedo-like outfit with a silver circlet on his head; one young man dressed in furs and pelts with tattoos spanning his body and a heavy red jewel around his neck; one young man dressed in green with a dirty white scarf wrapped around his neck and an off-white material bound around his forearms.

She blinked again and she saw Ray, Michael and Gavin sat opposite her.

“Jack?” Gavin asked, shaking Jack from her thoughts.

“Huh? I’m fine.” Jack said, taking a drink of her coffee. Geoff had gotten her favourite coffee for her.

“Okay, perfect,” Geoff said, pointing at Jack. “First question; why the fuck is _that_  happening?”

“Flashbacks.” Ray said, talking around the rim of his coffee cup. Michael nodded in agreement.

“Yeah.” He said. “They’re just remembering stuff.”

“So why am I not remembering things?” Geoff asked.

“Beats me.” Michael said, shrugging. “How long have you two remembered stuff?” He asked, directing the question to Jack and Gavin.

“Since yesterday, I guess.” Gavin admitted.

“Same here.” Jack said. “I probably had a few weird dreams when I was a little kid but nothing I remember.”

Michael and Ray shared a glance and Michael nodded minutely.

“Okay, this’ll probably sound really weird, but have you guys seen a guy with no face?” Ray asked, holding his coffee cup tightly in his hands.

“He _has_  a face, probably, but it’s covered by some weird smoke thing.” Michael clarified.

Geoff looked at Jack and Jack looked at Geoff. She heard his silent question and she’d had the same thought.

“I’ve never seen someone like that.” Gavin said, frowning like he was racking his memory.

“I have.” Jack admitted. All of them save Geoff looked at her in surprise.

“When?” Ray asked.

“First time I saw him was thirteen years ago.” Jack said, not looking at Gavin. There was a very good reason why he hadn’t heard the story until the day before. “He stopped me from getting shot in my sleep.” Michael looked at Ray with a frown on his face.

“That’s before you saw him, Ray.” Michael said.

“Did he say anything to you? Or was he just _there_?” Ray asked.

“Well he told me to hide so I didn’t get shot,” Jack said. “But we didn’t have a deep, philosophical debate, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“He spoke to you?” Gavin repeated in awe.

“It wasn’t really _speaking_ ,” Jack admitted. “It felt like what he was saying was just in my head.”

Michael and Ray shared a look again. It was a pretty significant look.

“Well, it is the same guy?” Geoff asked, breaking the little spell that had fallen over them.

“Sounds like it.” Ray said. “Creepy fuck?”

“Yup.” Jack said.

“Same guy.” Ray confirmed, nodding solemnly as he drank the coffee.

“So this guy ties us all together?” Gavin asked. “Is he the key to our memories or something?”

A knock at the door interrupted any reply that Gavin could have gotten. Geoff placed his cup on the table and quickly pulled his gun out of his waistband.

“Michael.” Geoff said, looking towards the front door. Michael nodded and put his own coffee cup down, grabbing his own gun. He followed Geoff towards the front door of the apartment, keeping his footsteps as quiet as possible.

Geoff gestured for him to stand beside the door, and Michael complied, keeping out of sight from anyone who would be there.

Geoff’s hand was on the doorknob. He counted down from three in his head and slowly opened the door, keeping his gun ready in his hand.

“Joel?” Geoff asked, all the tension in the room diffusing. Jack stood up from her seat and walked over to where Geoff was.

“Hey guys, haven’t seen you in a while.” Joel said brightly.

“What are you doing here, Joel?” Jack asked brightly. She _really_  hoped there wasn’t any evidence of her recent run-in with a bullet on her. Joel’s eye flickered to her shoulder and Jack wondered if there was a blood spot or something.

“We’re just here to visit.” Joel admitted.

“We?” Geoff asked.

“B!” Gavin shouted, suddenly running into the room. He ran past all of them, out the door and past Joel. He collided with someone, wrapping his arms around their neck and wrapping his legs around their chest.

“Hey B!” The person replied happily, taking a half-step to steady themselves. Gavin jumped down, standing in front of the person with a massive grin on his face.

“Jack, Geoff, this is Dan. He was my best friend in England.” Gavin explained, looking back to the others.

“Oh, so _you’re_  Dan.” Jack said. “Gavin mentioned you a few times.”

“Or a million.” Geoff teased. "Always talking about how he wanted to see you again. Suck your dick one last time.”

Gavin and Dan laughed, so she knew Geoff hadn’t offended the Brits.  

“Anyone want to fill us in?” Michael asked, still from his vantage point behind the door.

“Joel is Jack’s old boss.” Gavin said, practically pulling Dan into the apartment. Joel stepped in as well, looking at the two new people with curiosity.

“I wouldn’t close the door, Geoff, Gus is on his way up. He just had to park the car.” Joel said nonchalantly.

“Gus is here too?” Geoff asked, stepping away from the door for no apparent reason. “You guys all know each other?”

“In a way.” Dan said. “It’s a bit more like we all have a mutual friend.”

“Hey guys.” A new person said, drawing the attention to them.

“Gus?” Geoff's surprise was plain, despite _knowing_ his old friend was going to arrive.

“Do you guys have no idea what’s going on, either?” Ray asked, finally emerging from his reclusive space that had hidden him until that point.

“Why are you all here?” Jack asked.

“Oh so you haven’t told them about Vagabond yet.” Gus said, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him.

“Nah, we hadn’t got to that part yet.” Dan said.

“Vagabond?” Ray repeated. The word felt like it had sucked the air out of the room and Jack looked at Geoff. He looked back at her and she realised he felt the same.

“How much do you know?” Joel asked, looking at each other them in turn.

“Well, three of us have our memories back.” Michael said.

“So you, Ray and who else?” Gus asked.

“B?” Dan asked, looking at Gavin curiously.

“‘S not me, B.” Gavin said. “Jack’s the one who got her memories back.”

“You do?” Joel said, looking at Jack. He seemed a little sad, for some reason beyond her. Jack just nodded and watched as Joel and Gus exchanged a look.

“Can we get some fucking answers here?” Michael demanded, his voice harsh. “You guys are tiptoeing ‘round being all secretive and we’re just confused as shit! If you know something, then fucking tell us!”

The three exchanged a look and Gus huffed.

“Who wants to say it?” Joel asked.

“Basically, we’re called Watchers.” Dan said simply. “We were assigned to one of you by V to make sure you didn’t die when you were in vulnerable situations. But we had to make it believable, so that’s why I didn’t follow you over here, B.” He said the last sentence looking at Gavin apologetically.

“So how come we didn’t have one?” Ray asked.

“I know Michael didn’t get one because Vagabond thought he didn’t need one, but I’m not sure why Ray didn’t get one.” Gus admitted, looking like he was trying to remember something.

“Anything else we should know?” Geoff asked. Gus looked up at all of them.

“The six will rise to be like kings again after all the years/ and the old king's vengeance will be their freedom and their death./ They will find one another in new skins, but when the mind clears/ the new kings and queen will be united to mourn once again.” Gus said, reciting the words easily.

“What the fuck is that? Some kind of prophecy?” Geoff asked. He said it flippantly, but the look on Gus’ face made him deflate slightly.

“A prophecy? About _us_?” Gavin repeated.

“‘ _United to mourn once again_ ’.” Ray repeated, picking out that one part of the prophecy. “Mourn who? No Face?”

“ _Is that what you call me?_ ”

Jack felt time grind to a halt. The others froze as well and slowly, they all turned to look at the being behind them.

The faceless man stood impassively in the room and Jack felt her breath leave her body.

“ _I think I can take it from here_.” They said, looking at the Watchers. Jack barely heard them leave, or what they said when they left.

It was the same man who told her to hide when her parents were shot.

It was the same man who saved her from the man with the gun against her head.

It was the same man: the one who’d always saved them.

Jack felt herself moving and she stopped right in front of the man, looking at what should have been his face. Michael was right: she could see the smoke encasing his head, but she could see that it had a shape.

It was a skull.

The man was a fair bit taller than her and had to look down to meet her gaze ( _probably_  - she still couldn’t see his face to be sure). Jack’s arm reached out and she grabbed the sleeve of his leather jacket, clutching the material tightly in her hand.

“ _Ryan..._ ” She breathed. It felt like all the air in her lungs had been ripped out and she almost felt her eyes burn.

Yes; that was his name.

_Ryan._

Her friend. _Their_  friend.

The sixth king.

He was back. They were all together again. After so long. After so _goddamn_  long...

“ _Hey, Jack_.” Ryan said. “ _Long time, no see, bud_.”

It felt like something in her had snapped and Jack surged forwards, wrapping her arms around him, holding the man as tightly as humanly possible. She felt his arms curl around her and that alone made her forget the pain in her shoulder.

“I _remember_.” Jack said, her voice muffled by the leather jacket. “I remember what you did for me, Ryan. And I forgive you.”

She felt him stiffen and wondered if she’d said something wrong.

The memory of the sword entering her throat; of the blood drowning her slowly; of the chaos of the battle around her being drowned out by the ringing in her ears and the horrified face of her friend as he watched her die slowly; of his hushed and hurried ‘ _I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry_ ’s as he tried to patch the wound; of his tears when Jack felt her eyes slip closed.

She remembered it all so clearly and she knew Ryan did as well.

But Jack knew it wasn’t his fault. Even if he blamed himself, it _wasn’t_  his fault.

“I forgive you, Ryan. There was nothing you could do.” Jack said again, this time firmer. She _knew_  that he heard her that time.

She felt Ryan’s hands move to her shoulders and Jack loosened her grip, taking a step back and looking back up at him. Jack thought for a moment that she might have been able to see his face under the mask. Might have seen the face she knew before.

“Thank you, Jack.” Ryan said, his voice soft but strong. The whole room fell silent, all of them looking at him in shock.

“Say that again.” Geoff practically ordered, his eyes narrowed and confused.

“I said thank you, Jack.” Ryan repeated, but he paused. They could see the cogs turning in his head as he came to the same realisation. “Huh...?”

“Dude! Your voice isn’t in our heads anymore!” Ray said happily.

“I have a voice…” Ryan repeated, looking down at Jack. He suddenly let out a laugh and scooped her up, swinging her around. “I have my voice!”

Jack couldn’t help but laugh as well and Ryan set her down, hugging her tightly, pressing his head into her shoulder, ignoring the fact he was taller than her by a significant amount. His excitement was practically overflowing from him and the rest of them couldn’t help but feel his elation as their own.

“I have a voice again!” Ryan said, letting go of Jack and turning to the rest of the group. The tone of his voice didn’t match his tough and mysterious appearance, but it was charming in a way. Like a golden retriever pup wearing a spiked leather collar. “Gavin! Tell me to say something!”

“Say that you’re a nasty little bellend.” Gavin said, teasingly.

“You’re a nasty little bellend!” Ryan repeated, revelling in the sound of his own voice.

“Oi!” Gavin protested, suddenly offended. It was like he couldn’t see that backfiring on him at all.

“How the fuck can you talk again?” Michael asked, feeling as happy as the rest of them.

“I don’t know.” Ryan said. One of his hands went to his throat and Jack thought she saw a mark on his throat disappear. It had to have been her imagination though.

“Okay, can I just ask everyone something?” Geoff asked. “How the fuck do Jack, Michael and Ray have their memories back?”

“Michael, so you remember what I told you?” Ryan asked, directing his attention to him.

“What do you mean, asshole? You didn’t tell me anything? You said something about being wronged, but that’s it.” Michael said. The energy in the room started to dissipate but everyone knew they _needed_ answers. They’d been in the dark for too long.

“I can’t tell you anything _directly_.” Ryan said. “But Jack, how exactly did you get your memories?”

“I killed the guy who shot my parents.” Jack said.

“Michael, what about you?” Ryan prompted.

“Beat up the guy who killed my brother.” Michael said. Jack saw him cast a nervous glance to Gavin and wondered why.

“Ray?”

“Drugged the guy who gave me a bad hit.” Ray admitted. There was obviously a lot of the story he wasn’t telling them.

“See the pattern yet?” Ryan asked, looking around them all.

“They all got back at someone who hurt them.” Gavin said thoughtfully. Jack looked over at him and felt proud all of a sudden. For all his silly antics, he really _was_  smart.  “So we have to get even with someone?”

Ryan nodded, and Jack could _feel_  the appreciation that rolled off him. It seemed Ryan was beginning to understand just how smart Gavin was as well.

“So you guys just have to find out who hurt you the most in life.” Michael said.

Geoff caught Jack’s eye and they both knew who he was thinking of.

“I don’t think anyone’s really hurt me all that much in life.” Gavin admitted, sounding almost sad. “I guess there were a couple bullies…”

“It’s something more than that, Gavin.” Ryan said, shaking his head sadly.

“Jack,” Gavin said suddenly, turning to her. “When we met, that kid tricked me into trying to pickpocket that guy. Do you think it could be him?”

“I guess.” Jack admitted. “Do you think you could find him?”

“What kid?” Geoff asked, frowning at both of them.

“I met this kid Kerry when I was running away.” Gavin said.

“Kerry?” Ryan repeated. “That was the kid’s name?”  

“Yeah.”

“Ohhhhh, _fuck_.”

***

“What a day, Jack.” Geoff said, practically falling onto the sofa beside Jack. His arm automatically went around her shoulders and Jack shifted so their sides were pressed together. “And it’s not even over.”

Jack smiled and reached across to take his hand with her own good hand.

“I’m going to take Michael and Ray to the gun range tomorrow. If we’re really _destined_  to all be around each other again, then we should see if they can defend themselves, or at least teach them how to.” Jack said, brushing the rough skin on Geoff’s fingers lightly with the pads of her fingers.

“That’s a good idea.” Geoff agreed. “I’ve got to deal with the real estate people tomorrow, so you should probably take Gavin with you. I don’t need him almost killing another estate agent when I’m trying to close the deal.” Jack laughed at the memory.

“You ready to leave this place?” She asked, looking around the front room nostalgically.

“We need a bigger home anyway.” Geoff said. “Gavin’s a growing boy, he deserves his own room.” He joked, linking his hand with Jack’s.

“How are you handling… all this?” Jack continued, leaning her head against Geoff’s shoulder.

“I feel better now we have some goddamn answers.  And now I _know_  what was happening to you and Gavin, I know that it’s nothing dangerous.” Geoff said. “What about you Jack? How do you feel about all this?”

“I want to know what I did to give Ryan his voice back.” Jack admitted.

“We’ll figure it out.” Geoff said, pressing a light kiss to her temple. “We always figure something out.”

“I know.” Jack said softly. “When we move, should we make sure we have a room for the others?”

“Might as well.” Geoff said. “What should we get with this new apartment? A pool?”

“A bigger garage.” Jack said automatically and Geoff laughed. “And a decent kitchen.”

“A big liquor cabinet.” Geoff added, resting his head on Jack’s.

“A room we can keep all our weapons in.”

“A forty-inch TV and all the game consoles we could want.”

“A big bathtub.” Jack added, smiling at him mischievously. Geoff smiled and his grip tightened slightly around Jack’s hand.

“Anything you want.” Geoff promised.

“Are you my sugar daddy now or something?” Jack teased, pulling away to look at him.

“I’ll be anything you want me to be, baby.” He said, smiling back at her cheesily. Jack laughed and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

“Whatever you say, Geoff.” Jack said, settling back against his arm, resting her head on his shoulder again. Geoff’s hand detached from hers and wrapped around her hip, pulling her onto his lap. Jack sat upright and looked down slightly at Geoff, who looked far too cocky for his own good.

“It sounds like you don’t believe me, Miss Pattillo.” Geoff said, a small challenge in his voice.

“Does it now?” Jack asked, a small smirk on her face.

“Yes, it does.” Geoff’s hand interlocked behind Jack’s back, allowing her to lean back slightly without falling. “I’d burn down this whole fucking town for you, Jack.”

“But then we’d lose our deposit.” Jack teased. Geoff laughed loudly at that and Jack felt like she was a teenager again, staying up late, drunk and swapping bad jokes with Geoff on the nights they couldn’t sleep.

“I think we already lost that when Gavin and I tried to make those flaming cocktails.” Geoff admitted.

“Oh, god, I thought I blocked that out.” Jack said, burying her face in Geoff’s shoulder. “That was a _mess_.”

“Hey, those drinks tasted good though, you have to admit.” Geoff said, a cocky smile on his face. Jack leaned back and frowned at him.

“You mean _after_  I put out the kitchen?” Jack asked.

“Yeah. Those drinks were _goooood_. We should make them again.” Geoff said, fondly remembering the time their apartment caught on fire and Gavin nearly lost his eyebrows.

“You can remember how to make them?” Jack asked.

“I think so. Why? You want to make them again?” Geoff asked. “I can go get Gavin.”

“Fuck it, we’re moving soon anyway.” Jack said, beginning to scoot off Geoff’s lap. Geoff held her there for a second, getting a strange look from Jack. He leaned forwards and pressed a quick kiss to Jack’s lips.

“I always like it when you join in our bad ideas.” Geoff said.

“You’re a bad influence on me, Ramsey.” Jack teased. She tutted and shook her head playfully. “And you’re meant to be my good example.”

“Oh god, don’t say things like that, Jack.” Geoff said, a smile on his face that Jack felt like she had known her entire life. She might as well have.

“You want those drinks or not?” Jack asked, getting off Geoff’s lap and beginning to walk to the kitchen. Geoff just smiled and joined 

***

Jack stopped the car and got out, her bad arm hanging close to her side. Gavin practically jumped out the car and hurried to join her by the boot of the car. He popped it and grabbed the duffle bag full of weapons in it, slinging it over shoulder as he did so.

Jack raised a single eyebrow as he walked over to the range, amused and confused by the sudden _display_  from Gavin. It wasn’t until she noticed Michael’s gaze following the Brit that it clicked. (That was so sweet: Gavin was trying to impress him.)  

Jack walked around and set up a few targets they kept there for when they felt like honing their skills. (Or, as was the case when Gavin was a bit younger, when Geoff and Jack had had enough of Gavin’s pestering to go again and went to appease him).

“You need some help, Jack?” Ray asked. Jack rolled her shoulder experimentally. It still hurt like a bitch, and she knew Gavin and Michael weren’t going to be any help.

“Sure, Ray. Can you set up that side for me?” Jack said, directing him to the targets furthest away from where they would stand. Ray took a few of them and did as she had asked.

Jack waited for Ray to finish and they both walked around to the other side of the stand. Gavin held out a pair of safety goggles and earmuffs to them and Jack slid the safety goggles on over her hair.

“Why’d you bring us out here again?” Michael asked. “Not that I don’t like any excuse to handle a gun.”

“We want to see how good you are.” Jack said, reaching into the duffle bag and pulling out a few guns and passing one to Gavin to inspect. “We’ve got a lot of enemies with a lot of guns, so if you’re going to stick around us, we want to know you can protect yourself.”

“That seems pretty sensible.” Ray said, taking the gun that Jack held out to him. She noted how naturally he seemed to hold it. Michael too.

That was promising.

“Great then, see how many times you can hit the target.” Jack said, nodding towards the targets as she slipped her earmuffs on. The duo made their way towards the table, putting the safety equipment on and stood in front of it, facing the targets.

They raised the gun in sync and started firing. Jack stood beside Michael and glanced at Gavin, who was stood beside Ray. Gavin nodded appreciatively, looking at the holes spontaneously appearing in the targets.

They stopped firing and stepped away from the table, leaving the guns on them. Michael slipped his earmuffs off, leaving them hanging around his neck.

“How’d we do?” He asked, a tad cockily.

“Not bad at all. Looks like we don’t have to worry about you guys just yet.” Jack said, nodding as she observed the targets Michael had shot at. The bullet holes were all coupled close together around the head, chest and a few near where the groin would be. Ray’s targets were pretty accurate, but the spread was wider than Michael’s and not _as_  accurate.

“Hey Ray,” Gavin said, catching Jack’s attention without meaning to. The Brit rummaged around in the duffle bag and pulled out a sniper rifle, quickly inspecting it and grabbing a bit of ammunition. “Ever used one of these before?” Gavin asked, holding the gun out to him.

“You mean outside of videogames?” Ray asked, taking the gun from Gavin. He held it in his hands tentatively, but Jack could see something familiar there. Or maybe that was wishful thinking.

“Give it a try, Ray.” Jack encouraged, slipping the earmuffs back on.

Ray approached the targets again and raised the rifle so he could look through the scope. The concentration on his face was obvious and Jack was almost fascinated when Ray started taking shots. The three of them on the sidelines watched as Ray nailed the shots every time, alternating between head and chest shots.

Ray stepped away from the table and looked at the others.

“Holy _shit_ , Ray!” Michael exclaimed.

“Bloody hell, that was amazing!” Gavin praised, his accent thickening for a moment.

“Whose gun is this by the way? The sight’s a little off.” Ray said, twisting the gun in his hands.

“That was Jack’s.” Gavin admitted.

“I hardly use it anymore.” Jack said. “I’m only good at sniping when the targets don’t move anyway. You can have that gun if you want.”

“Seriously?” Ray asked, looking up at her in surprise.

“Beats it just gathering dust.” Jack said, shrugging despite the pain in her shoulder. Ray looked like he was going to hug her, but he refrained and just held the gun tightly in his hands.

“Round two?” Gavin asked, reaching down for some more ammo from the duffle bag.

“You sure we can just waste this much ammo?” Michael asked.

“Jack?” Gavin called, dragging Jack into the conversation.

“We have more ammo in the apartment, and I need to stop by Ammu-Nation anyway on the way back.” Jack said. Gavin grinned and grabbed his own, overly fancy gun from the car.

After his first successful job when he was only twenty, Geoff had bought Gavin a gun that had been spray painted so it looked gold and Gavin _loved_  it. He always had it near. It was sweet actually.

“You know you could have asked me to babysit, Jack?” Ryan’s voice only startled Jack a little when he appeared out of nowhere. The words sounded familiar to Jack and she realised he must have said it to her in their past life. “What are they doing?”

“We’re seeing how good Michael and Ray are with weapons. In short: _really_  good.” Jack admitted. “And Gavin’s here because he likes firing a gun.”

“Has he ever done archery?” Ryan asked. Jack opened her mouth to question him when a certain memory hit her.

The memory was a simple one: Jack, Geoff and Ryan were stood with two other people whose faces Jack couldn’t see. (She could just make out that one was a man while the other was a female.) A very young Gavin was playing with a young Michael - _Mogar_ , she realised with a start - and a young Ray. The adults were talking idly and Ryan called Gavin over, kneeling down so they were closer to the same height. Ryan held out a handcrafted bow with little symbols carved into it that looked like they glowed faintly. Gavin took it from him, squealing happily as he also took the quiver that Ryan presented. He ran back to the other Lads and Jack remembered why this memory was so important: this was the day when Gavin got his signature weapon. He was the last of them to do so.

“Not since we’ve known him.” Jack admitted, snapping out of her memory. Ryan nodded thoughtfully.

“I guess swords are a bit outdated now.” He said, a small chuckle in his voice. Jack laughed a little as well, trying to defuse that small air of awkwardness in the air.

“Gun’s are more effective anyway.” Jack said, watching the boys laughing as they tried to spell out words with the bullet holes in the targets.

“When did you get your memories back?” Ryan asked, surprising Jack.

“Two days ago.” Jack said. She could heard Ryan’s surprise in the silence. “Same day Michael and Ray found us.”

“And you recognised me that quickly?” Ryan asked, the surprise clear in his newly-found voice.

“I shouldn’t have?”

“I don’t know.” Ryan admitted. “It’s been over a year and I don’t think Michael and Ray recognised me until you did.”

“I knew you for longer than they did.” Jack said. They were both quiet for a moment. “Ryan?”

“Yeah?”

“What happened after I died?” Jack asked, more out of curiosity than anything. Ryan’s shoulders drooped and suddenly Jack regretted ever asking.

“Gavin didn’t want to leave the castle for a week. He actually told Michael that he felt like he’d lost his parents all over again. Especially after... Ray and Michael didn’t know what to do. They did all they could to help your kingdom: sent food and money.” Ryan admitted. “I had a memorial set up for you next to Geoff’s.”

“Wow.” Jack said. She regretted asking. Hearing all that felt a little overwhelming. “I guess I’m one of the first people who ever actually found out what happened to them after their death.” She said, trying for a joke. Ryan chuckled, not fully committing to a laugh.

“I guess you are.” He agreed. “Can I ask _you_  something, Jack?”

“Go for it.”

“How did you find them?” Ryan asked, looking at her finally. Jack wished that she could see his eyes, or at least some part of his face from behind the smoke mask.

“I met Geoff when I was eight and he was thirteen.” Jack said, deciding to start at the beginning. “He was going to run away and I was playing in a park, waiting for my parents to get home. He said that I convinced him to not run away, but I guess he was having doubts anyway. I honestly didn’t expect to see him again, but he pulled me out of a fight a few days later. After that, we just sort of became friends. He ran away from home when he was...eighteen? Yeah, eighteen, and I was thirteen. I didn’t see him after that until I was seventeen and you saved me from getting shot in the middle of the night.”

“I told you to get somewhere safe.” Ryan said. Jack imagined he was frowning at her somewhere behind the smoke.

“Geoff was the safest person I could think to go to.” Jack admitted. “We’ve lived together ever since. I was the one to find Gavin. I was on the street when he tried to steal this guy’s wallet but he was caught and I found him in an alley nearby. We had lunch and I offered him a place to stay. He was only seventeen. That first night he stayed with us, he tried to run away. Thank you for saving him, by the way Ryan.”

“It’s what I do.” Ryan joked, but his heart wasn’t really in it. He was too engrossed in Jack’s tale.

“When Geoff found him and brought him home, that was it; we were going to stick together. God knows Geoff’s always acted like some disgruntled dad when Gavin’s around.” Jack joked. “It’s been the three of us for years. We didn’t let him work with us until he was twenty, though. Geoff was very strict about that. But you see that gun that Gavin’s using now? Geoff bought him it after our first successful job together. He bought me a diamond necklace when we first made ten thousand dollars.”

“He hasn’t changed much, then.” Ryan said.

“Have any of us changed that much?” Jack asked.

“No offense Jack, but you went from a king to a queen between lives.” Ryan said. “That seems like a big change.”

“I don’t feel _different_.” Jack said. “Maybe I’ve always been a queen.”

Ryan nodded thoughtfully. He didn’t speak for a small while.

“Maybe.” Ryan said. “You never mentioned it.”

“I guess I don’t really know either, or I _didn’t_ , at least.” Jack said. “After everything that’s happened recently, I’m not sure I know anything anymore.”

“I know something.” Ryan said.

“Well done.” Jack teased, trying to lighten the air. Ryan laughed, a rumbling laugh that made Jack think of chess for some very odd reason. (Seriously, she had no idea where that connection came from).

“I _mean_ , I know something about all of us.” Ryan said. “I know that the six of us being together means we’re doing something right.”

“Yeah?” Jack asked, curious as to his reasoning.

“Yeah. The prophecy said we’d all find each other, you know. So we’re on the right path.” Ryan said.

“Didn’t the prophecy also say something about death? And dying?” Jack asked.

“Yeah but that’s more of a suggestion than anything else.” Ryan said casually. Jack couldn’t help laughing and Ryan joined in.

The Lads paused what they were doing and looked over at them, obviously surprised to see the two of them laughing together (especially when they didn’t realise Ryan was even  there). Jack saw Gavin’s expression soften into a genuine smile. Michael looked confused but like he wanted to smile as well (probably for the same reason as Gavin), but it was Ray’s expression that caught Jack’s attention the most. He looked _wistful_. Or maybe he was remembering something.

“You know Ryan, I’ve missed you.” Jack said when her laughter died down.

“I missed you too, Jack.” Ryan admitted. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you guys.”

“Well we’re back now.” Jack said. “All together. Like you said.”

“Yeah, I guess we are.” Ryan looked away from Jack and over at the Lads. He probably had a million memories that Jack could only _guess_. One day they should all just sit and remember. Maybe that would clear up some stuff for them.

“Hey Ry!” Gavin shouted, catching both the former-Gentlemen's attention. “How well can you shoot?”

“Perfectly.” Ryan replied without an ounce of arrogance in his voice. It was simply a fact that he could hit any target perfectly.

“Bullshit.” Michael goaded, a smile on his face. “There’s no way.”

“You want proof?” Ryan asked. Jack knew that edge in his voice. It was dangerous; a challenge. Jack knew, if Ryan was anything like he _was_ , that he would never back down from a challenge, even if it meant death.

“Come on, Ryan! Show us how well you can shoot.” Ray joined in, masking whatever had come over him expertly. Ryan looked at Jack (probably) and she just shrugged, her smile still residing on her face.

“They won’t shut up about it otherwise.” She said casually.

Ryan seemed to make up his mind and walked forwards to the gun range. He raised his arms and a gun materialised between his hands. It looked like a revolver from where Jack was stood, but it was shiny like gold.

He took a brief moment to find his target and suddenly it was mini-explosion after mini-explosion. Jack watched Ryan readjust his aim in the nanoseconds between shots with a sense of awe in her chest. It felt like watching a master demonstrate his craft.

There was a tangible silence when Ryan’s gun was empty and he lowered his arms, letting the revolver fade from existence. It didn’t last long.

“HOLY SHIT!” Michael shouted, a look of pure glee on his face.

“That was incredible!” Gavin gushed. Jack could barely remember the last time she saw that certain sparkle in his eye.

“Ryan, oh my god!” Ray stared at the target, admiring the perfect headshots and even the small smiley face Ryan had punctured into the target.

Jack watched the four of them with an odd feeling in her chest. She felt warm, seeing the ecstatic looks on the Lads faces and the proud stance Ryan had in that moment. She wondered if she ever felt like that as King Pattillo.

If they were anything like they _were_ , then Jack probably had dozens of moments like that.

***

“Alright boys, you coming in with me?” Jack asked, parking the car outside the ammunition shop that they frequented often. Ryan had dematerialised some time on the ride from the gun range to the gun shop.

Gavin was already out the car by the time Jack had finished parking, waltzing in confidently with a swagger in his walk.

Michael and Ray barely had to exchange a glance before they both got out, leaving Jack to just huff in slight annoyance and exit the car as well. Really, she should have gotten Gavin to drive. Her arm was beginning to ache as the painkillers wore off, but Jack had been through much worse than a bullet through the shoulder.

Jack walked through the doors of the shop and the man behind the till straightened up instinctively.

“What can I do you for, Jack?” The man asked as Jack walked up to the counter.

“Just the regular order for today, Matt.” Jack said, leaning on the counter to peruse the guns hanging on display. “Oh, but add a couple more cases of the sniper ammo as well.”

“Getting back into sniping?” Matt asked, taking note of Jack’s order. He knew her and Geoff well enough to know all their weapons habits by that point. “Honestly, I wouldn’t recommend it with those stitches.” He added, pointing to the edge of the bandage that was peeking out from beneath Jack’s shirt.

“It’s not for me. I still can’t hit a moving target for shit.” Jack said. She didn’t offer any more information but from the man’s shifting gaze, Jack could tell he’d clocked the two newcomers that they’d arrived with.

Jack looked over at the three Lads as the man filled in all the paperwork for her order. Gavin was looking at the high-end guns and possible paint jobs as usual. Ray stood beside him, pointing at the other paint options. Jack could _just about_  see Ray’s finger on a bright pink colour. Michael was stood away from the other two Lads, inspecting grenade options. Something about the shine in his eye was endearing to Jack.

“Add a couple more grenades and C4 to that list.” Jack said to Matt, turning away from the Lads.

“Packing a lot of heat there, Jack.” Matt said. “Planning anything I should go on vacation for?” He said it as if he was joking, but he knew that their small group was beginning to dabble in bigger jobs that just grabbing coke off rich fucks and selling it for a higher price.

“Nothing too big right now, so you can save your vacation days.” Jack said  

“Alright then.” Matt said, temporarily reassured. “Same address as usual?”

“Yeah.” Jack said. “We changed the lock, so here’s the new key.” She said, pulling a small key from her pocket and putting it on the counter between them. It was for a small storage facility along the outskirts of the city that Geoff had acquired a while ago to stash spare weapons and ammo. It was easier to have all the not-so-legal things delivered there to pick up than to carry them from the shop to the apartment.

“Got it. I’ll make sure to destroy this personally as soon as we’ve delivered the goods.” Matt promised. He knew exactly what would happen if he did _anything_  to compromise their trust in him. His predecessor knew that all too well; rest his soul.

Jack’s phone rang in her pocket and she fished it out, barely glancing at the caller before answering. (There were maybe a handful of people who had her _real_  number anyway).

“Hello.” Jack said, turning away from Matt to talk into the phone. She saw Gavin glance over at her curiously.

“ _Hey Jack_.” Geoff’s voice on the other end of the line sounded happy and Jack felt his happiness begin to infect her over the phone. “ _Guess what we just got?_ ”

“Decent wine?” Jack said, obviously joking.

“ _Better. The finest champagne in Los Santos!_ ” Geoff said grandly.

“Wow. What’s the occasion?” Jack asked, leaning against the counter casually. Gavin frowned at her and began to make his way over.

“ _We got the apartment. And it’s ready to move into as soon as we are._ ” Geoff said.

“We got the apartment? The penthouse we’ve had our eye on for a while?” Jack repeated, mostly for Gavin’s benefit. She turned back towards the till and held her phone between her shoulder and cheek so she could reach her wallet in her pocket.

“ _We got the apartment, baby!_ ” Geoff exclaimed, his voice a bit crackly over the bad signal.

“I guess it’s time to celebrate when we get back.” Jack said, feeling herself get excited. Jack loved moving into a new apartment: it meant they were doing better than they were.

Matt looked at her quizzically but Jack just pulled out a card from her wallet and passed it over. She saw Michael eyeing the open wallet out of the corner of her eye and quickly flipped it closed.

He obviously saw the picture Jack kept in it. It was one of those photo booth pictures that Geoff had persuaded her to take _years_  ago when they had only first started going out. They were both drunk probably and Geoff was wearing a cowboy hat for some reason. Jack also looked ridiculous, with dark red lipstick on and Geoff’s pink sunglasses on. Geoff was kissing her cheek just as the picture was taken and Jack always felt happy when she looked at it, even if she couldn’t remember actually _taking_  it.

Matt passed the card back and Jack slipped it in her wallet, tucking it back into her pocket.

“You should be able to pick up your supplies by the end of the week.” Matt told her confidently. “Always nice doing business with you, Jack.”

“You too.” Jack said, smiling at him before she looked over at the Lads. Gavin immediately shot a smile at Jack and walked over to the other two Lads, chatting with them as they walked towards the door.

“Am I allowed to know who the new kids are?” Matt asked, pointing at Michael and Ray with his pen.

“I wouldn’t recommend it.” Jack said honestly.

“ _Right_.” Matt said. “I never saw them.”

“They don’t exist.” Jack corrected.

“Who don’t exist?” Matt asked, his voice and face a perfect mask on innocent ignorance. Jack nodded and left the shop.

A part of her didn’t like the level of power they had reached. She could intimidate anyone who knew who she was or knew who her partner was. (Anyone who wasn’t afraid of them was either family or out of their minds).

Another part of her kept whispering that deep down, Jack _loved_   it.

***

Ever since Jack’s memories returned (how was that only a few days ago? It felt like a lifetime), she would have flashes of memories.

Sometimes when she heard the Lad’s laughing, she remembered sunny days and watching the young children run and play around the Haywood castle courtyard.

Sometimes when Jack looked at Gavin, she remembered a day when she received an urgent letter from her friend in another kingdom about his new ward. She remembered setting out the next day and meeting this shy, young boy with fluffy hair and a funny accent that hid behind Geoff’s leg the whole time she stayed with them.

Even as she drove down the road, Jack remembered.

It played out like a dream but they all knew better than that.

Jack saw a hand extended towards her as the memory played in front of her eyes. She looked up and saw a cocky smile bearing down on her.

“You can’t do that in a battle, Jack.” Geoff had said, all bright smiles and relaxed posture.

“My enemies won’t be trying to trip me up when we’re fighting.” Jack said, taking the hand and letting Geoff pull her to her feet. The armour she was wearing was a tad cumbersome and she once wished that she didn’t have to wear it whenever she visited Geoff’s kingdom. She wished she didn’t have to have the armed escort following her around and standing guard. She wished that she could just visit her friends in peace.

“You never know, Jack. Maybe they’ll fight dirty, like me.” Geoff teased, stepping back and settling in his fighting stance seamlessly. He’d been raised like any good Prince: swordsmanship and learning how to charm anyone onto his side had been drilled into him since childhood. That was just how his Kingdom was.

Jack’s on the other hand…

They were agriculture-centred. Jack learned how to keep his people fed in harsh winters, how to negotiate with nearby kingdoms and villages, how to keep peace amongst the people.

The more she avoided direct conflict, the better off her people were.

That’s why she had no problem prolonging the alliance with the Ramsey Kingdom: Achievelandia. That and she had been friends with Geoff since they were children and their parents had met every year for festival his kingdom put on.

“If they do, then I won’t hold back.” Jack teased, putting one foot behind her and steadying herself.

“That was you holding back? I didn’t know you had it in you, Jack.” Geoff teased, tilting his sword and gripping the hilt with both hands. Jack always found it a tad strange that he chose a Knight's sword, but it suited him well. She couldn’t judge when her own sword was, by no stretch of the imagination, a ‘ _noble_ ’ sword.

“There’s a fair amount you don’t know about me, Geoff.” Jack said, preparing herself to block Geoff’s attacks.

“Well that just won’t do.” Geoff said, stepping into the first swing. Jack moved her blade and blocked it, putting all her strength into the action.

“What do you mean?” Jack asked, maneuvering away and taking a few steps back, circling Geoff with the tip of her blade pointed to him.

“I mean we certainly have to get to know each other better. Can’t have two kings in an alliance if they aren’t as thick as brothers.” Geoff protested, blocking Jack’s swing effortlessly.

“He’s right, Jack.” A new voice said, catching them both off guard. Jack turned her head and saw a young blonde man watching them spar with a smirk on his face. He wore a golden circlet on his head and his torso was covered in expensive armour. The only thing that ruined the effect was the kilt tied around his waist. “The only way to truly bond as kingdoms is to develop strong friendships.”

“Ryan? We weren’t expecting you for a few more days.” Jack said, straightening up automatically. She had completely left her guard down, and Geoff took no time in using it to his advantage. He knocked the sword out of her hand and whacked her ankle with enough force so that she fell to the ground.

“How many times have I told you, Jack? You can’t let your guard down in a fight.” Geoff reprimanded, placing the tip of his sword into the ground and leaning on it casually.

Ryan chuckled and drew his own sword, moving into position.

His weapon of choice was a dirk, and no one ever seemed to question why. The knife-like shape of it alone made perfect sense for it to belong to the one nicknamed the ‘Mad King’.

“You want a go, Ryan?” Geoff asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

“I don’t see why not.” Ryan replied, holding one hand behind his back as the other levelled the sword at Geoff.

Even if Geoff had been trained from childhood to be a perfect soldier and king, Ryan had been taught from birth how to stay alive. His whole family history was shrouded in ‘ _mysterious_ ’ disappearances and poisoned wine to the point where every newborn was afraid they wouldn’t reach their first birthday. Ryan was a mixture between lucky and ruthless; it was no surprise that he’d been sat on the throne comfortably since his seventeenth birthday.

Geoff looked up at him from the ground, a frown on his face, but it broke out in a smile after a few seconds. Even if he lost, Geoff _did_  love a good fight.  

“Well played, Haywood.” Geoff said, picking himself up and dusting off his armour.

Jack blinked and she focused on Ryan’s hand extending towards her. “Best two out of three?”

“Can your ego take it?” Ryan quipped, his sword already sheathed. He turned his head back to Jack and smiled at her. “If it helps, you’re definitely improving.” Ryan praised as he helped her to her feet. Jack let go of his hand and stepped back, slightly ashamed at her lack of skill. She’d never had to fight in a battle, so why did she need the skills?

“But I’m still not as skilled as either of you.” Jack pointed out. Ryan chuckled as he sheathed his sword again, letting it hang at his side.

“I’m sure if this winter is a hard one, then I would rather have your skills, Jack, than the ability to kill.” Ryan said fairly.

“If war breaks out, then I would rather be able to protect my people.” Jack replied.

“That’s why we have our alliance, Jack.” Geoff said, walking up to both of them. His sword had been replaced in its sheath and despite his loss, Geoff still carried himself with the air of a victor. “Now come on, we’ve put on a festival; we should go enjoy it.”

“ _JACK LOOK OUT_!”

Gavin’s words pulled Jack back into consciousness and she had just enough time to feel the car swerve out of the way of a lorry changing lanes. It took a few seconds for the car to right itself as Jack kept driving.

She looked around the car quickly and she saw Gavin’s worried face staring at her fearfully. There was another hand on the steering wheel and Jack realised a few seconds after that it was covered in leather and belonged to Ryan.

“Are you alright?” Ryan asked. His voice was full of concern and Jack suddenly felt guilty for her memories. She nodded and saw Ryan’s hand leave the wheel.

Her eyes flickered up to the rear view mirror and she saw that Ryan was now sat between Michael and Ray in the back seat.

“Jack-” Gavin began to say. His accent was suddenly thicker and she didn’t want to hear any pity or concern from him.

“I’m fine, Gav.” Jack said steadily. She took a deep breath and focused on the road again. “None of you are allowed to tell Geoff.”

“But-”

“I mean it, Gav.” Jack said, sharper than she intended. “Sorry. I just mean that Geoff’s going through a lot right now and he doesn’t need to worry about all this. It won’t happen again.”

“Jack, pull over.” Michael said, sitting forward on his seat so he was looking over her shoulder. “I’ll drive.”

“Michael-” Jack wanted to argue - tell them all that she was fine - but everything seemed to just catch up to her in that moment and Jack felt the weight of her past life fall on her. She guided the car to the side of the highway and Michael quickly slid into the driver's seat while Jack sat in the back.

Michael drove considerately. Jack could almost tell that he was _itching_  to drive a bit faster, take that turn a bit sharper, burn the rubber just that little bit more. She supposed almost crashing into a lorry had shaken them a little bit, if the occasional glances from Gavin and Ryan were anything to go by. Ray was quiet, but Jack wondered if that was more from something private and unrelated to the almost-disaster that could have taken place if Ryan hadn’t come swooping in like some miraculous spectre and pulled the wheel.

Jack cringed at the thought of how much she was indebted to him.

It as very hard to pay someone back for saving your life time and time again.

“Where from here, Gavin?” Michael asked, keeping his voice pretty low in the otherwise silent car.

Jack watched as Gavin directed Michael to the apartment. How he inched closer in his seat and how attentive Michael was for only receiving simple instructions.

She just hoped that whatever was going on there, Gavin knew how to handle himself.

***

“Cheers boys!” Geoff raised his champagne flute in the air triumphantly. “We’re moving up in the world.”

Jack raised her glass next, followed closely by Gavin. Michael exchanged a quick glance with Ray before he raised his flute. Ray didn’t move.

“You don’t like champagne?” Jack asked.

“Don’t drink.” Ray corrected, shrugging easily. “I’m as sober as a nun.” He joked, drawing a laugh out of the other two Lads. Gavin put down his flute and quickly went to the fridge, drawing something out of it.

He went back to the table they stood around and held out a Capri-Sun to Ray, who took it and strawed it enthusiastically.

“Cheers!” He exclaimed, lifting the Capri-Sun in the air. The others lifted their champagne with the same vigour as the sniper.

“Cheers!” Michael echoed.

Jack felt her skin prickle slightly and she turned her head slightly. Ryan was stood by the door and she silently beckoned him forwards.

He just shook his head ever so slightly and, between blinks, he was gone.

***

“ _Ah_ , we made it Jack.” Geoff said, practically flopping onto the bed beside Jack. She used her thumb to hold her place in the book and looked at him with an amused look on her face.

“You say that every time we get a new apartment.” Jack pointed out.

“But this time we’ve _actually_  made it, Jack.” Geoff said, pulling his socks off and shifting so he was sidled up to Jack. “We own the penthouse with the best view of the city! And as soon as the contractors are done, we’ll be living there!”

“I love how excited you get about moving.” Jack said, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. Geoff tilted his head up at the right moment and managed to snag a real kiss on the lips.

“It’s like how excited you get about cars.” Geoff said, sitting up enough to put his arms around Jack. “Do you remember the first apartment we lived in?”

“You mean that shithole that probably had black mold?” Jack asked, an amused smile on her face at the memory. She dog-eared the corner of her book and put it on her bedside table. “Yeah, I remember.”

“You remember that one time the shower broke and soaked both of us?” Geoff asked, resting his head against Jack’s.

“Mhm.” Jack agreed. “Do you remember when the A/C broke and we spent weeks sleeping in the bathroom because everywhere else was too hot?” She asked.

“What about that time the cooker broke and you went out and bought one of those shitty camping cookers?” Geoff asked.

“I only did that to shut you up.” Jack corrected.

“I like having a working kitchen!” Geoff defended, making Jack laugh at his sincerity.

Jack liked these moments. The gentle moments of how far they’d come since she was a broken seventeen year old and he was some lost twenty two year old. Now they had more than enough money to spare and they had a nice apartment and a family and a _legacy_.

Jack never had a legacy before, and she liked the idea of having something to leave behind, beyond an impressive criminal record.

“How were Michael and Ray at the gun range?” Geoff asked, snuggling just a bit closer to her.

“I’m pretty sure they’re more accurate with a gun than either of _us_.” Jack admitted. “Put together probably.”

Geoff was quiet for a little while, thinking something over. He shuffled down slightly so his head was resting on Jack’s lap rather than her shoulder and Jack’s hand began carding through his hair distractedly. Her phone buzzed on the bedside table and she leaned over to pick it up.

“We should take them on a job.” Geoff said. Jack knew that it wasn’t quite a statement, but it wasn’t unsure enough for a questions. It was comfortably in between.

“This soon?” Jack asked.

“Why not?” Geoff twisted so he was looking up at her. He had a glint in his eye that Jack had fallen in love with. “If they’re as good as you say, why wait? It doesn’t have to be flashy, just something to see if can handle it.”

“Something small… Maybe a bank?” Jack suggested, putting her phone back on her bedside table. “We could go in teams, see how well Michael and Ray work together and with us.”

“I knew I loved you for a reason.” Geoff teased, beaming up at her. Jack smiled down at him and he propped himself up to kiss her sweetly.

***

Jack cut the engine and looked over at Geoff in the passenger seat. Her hand left the clutch and rested on his knee sympathetically. He started and looked up at her.

“Ready?” Jack asked. Geoff wanted to be anywhere but outside that house. But if he wanted to get his memories back, he had to. No matter how he really didn’t want to. (And he _reeeeally_  didn’t want to).

“I guess.” Geoff admitted, taking Jack’s hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Tell me again why I have to do this.” He said, knowing that Jack telling him would give him a little bit of strength.

“We all get our memories back by righting how we were wronged.” Jack said. “Or some poetic bull like that.” She added, sounding more like herself.

He hadn’t seen that house since he was eighteen years old. The last time he’s been in that house, he’s left with a black eye and a few dollars to his name. Even just seeing it sent something in him into a mild panic. (It was probably better than it could have been - at least he had Jack with him to steel his nerves.)

The only good memories he had with this place involved not actually _being_  in the house. They all _did_  involve a certain redhead and long Los Santos summers in a shitty little park.

“Let’s get this over with.” Geoff said, rolling his head to look at her. Jack smiled at him sympathetically and patted his knee. She got out the car and Geoff gave himself another moment to prepare himself.

With a sigh, he climbed out the car and let the door slam echo down the street. He walked around and took Jack’s hand again.

She was wearing a sundress with her hair bouncing around her face and Geoff suddenly remembered a summer day when she was twenty one and they went down to the pier to celebrate something or other.

Jack led the way up to the front door and Geoff saw her nervously smooth down the front of her dress before she rang the doorbell.

The door opened and a middle aged woman stood in front of them. She was blonde, with her hair tied up haphazardly from her face. It took the woman a moment to place them before her face broke out in a smile.

“Oh God, you’ve both grown so much, I almost didn’t recognise you!” The woman said. Jack smiled back at her and Geoff managed to muster one himself. “Come in, come in.” The woman beckoned, stepping aside to let them enter the house. Jack glanced at Geoff and he gave her a small nod. They both stepped inside and Geoff _wished_  that there was another way.

***

Geoff suddenly woke with a gasp and a start. It took him a few seconds to look around and remember where he was, but his gaze landed on Jack and he relaxed.

“What do you remember?” Jack asked. She had parked the car on some side street while she waited for Geoff to wake up.

“Jack-” Geoff leaned forwards and quickly pulled Jack into a kiss. She made a small ‘ _oof_ ’ noise of surprise but Geoff pulled away quickly, holding her face in his hands tenderly. “Jack I’m so sorry.”

“What? What brought this on?” Jack asked, more confused than anything.

“I left you, and I left Gavin.” Geoff said, his voice small and soft. “I left all of you.”

“You mean when you died?” Jack asked, honestly surprised. “Geoff, that was a long time ago.”

“I know, but-” Geoff said, resting his forehead on Jack’s. “We’re all we have. Back then, it was _us_ : the Gentlemen. Our kingdom’s were the closest and we were powerful together. Jack, I remember _everything_. I remember us.”

“Everything?”

“Everything important.” Geoff promised, gently kissing her again.

His kisses reminded her of warm nights drinking whiskey in front of the TV, curled up on the sofa together. He smelt like the same cologne that he always did, and it was so familiar that Jack felt at home.

At some point along the way, home became synonymous with _Geoff_.

What a strange thought.

Geoff broke off the kiss and they just looked at each other for a while.

“Let’s go home, Jack.” Geoff said softly, the rough pad of his thumb stroking her cheek.

_You are my home._

“Better make sure Gavin hasn’t burned down the house yet.” Jack agreed, shifting back into her seat and starting the car again.

***

Gavin put the last box down on the floor and stood up, theatrically  popping his back and complaining loudly about his spine.

Geoff stood up from his spot on the floor in front of yet-to-be-re-assembled coffee table and mimicked Gavin in a parody of the standard British accent. Predictably, Gavin squawked in protest and tried to hit Geoff with his flying shoe.

Geoff, predictably, didn’t take to this too kindly.

“Gav, you’re fucked!” Michael called out, laughing loudly as he watched Geoff furiously wrestle and pin Gavin down to the laminated floor. Ray was watching from the sofa, laughing in short bursts that sounded like it was filled with mirth.

They both laughed like they didn’t know the next time they would be able to laugh again.

“Don’t break anything.” Jack said, opening the box that Ray had labelled ‘ _SPOONS AND SHIT_ ’. She pulled out the kitchen supplies and began packing them in the cabinets and drawers.

“Need some help Jack?” Ray asked, jumping over the back of the sofa spectacularly. Jack could have sworn she heard him mutter the word ‘ _parkour_ ’ under his breath when he landed solidly on the ground.

“Sure Ray.” Jack said, opening another box that was full of the kitchen appliances. “Can you help me set these up?”

She heard Geoff and Gavin’s fight finish up and looked over to see the both of them sat on the floor opposite each other, trying to figure out how to assemble the coffee table again. Michael was sat a bit further away, piecing together a smaller coffee table with considerably more ease.

This was how Jack wanted the rest of her life to play out. All of them together. Like they _were_.

Back when they were kings.  

For once, Fate had been kind to them, and Jack couldn’t have been more grateful.

***

Takeout boxes were scattered around the five of them. Outside, the sky was dark and the city lights mirrored the stars from their vantage point.

Two of the group sat flush on the sofa, the warm meal and euphoria of moving day giving them a warm feeling. The other three were sat on the floor, taking up space as creatively as possible, even if it meant invading the other’s space.

Jack sat with a glass of wine in her hand, Geoff with whiskey and two thirds of the Lads held beers casually as they joked on and mock- insulted each other with the ease of lifelong friends. The last Lad had juice in his glass, his vow of sobriety still going strong.

“To getting somewhere!” Jack toasted, lifting her glass in the air.

“To no more shitty apartments!” Gavin joined in.

“To mooching off Geoff!” Michael teased.

“To this badass view!” Ray said.

“To home.” Geoff concluded, clinking his glass delicately with Jack’s.

The five of them took a drink and a calm silence fell over them. It was peaceful. More peaceful than Jack had felt in a very long time, in all honesty.

Jack felt Geoff take her hand and she tangled their fingers together. Some small, romantic part of her absolutely _revelled_  in the idea that she was meant to meet Geoff that day at the park, that she was meant to run into Gavin on the street, that Michael and Ray were _meant_  to find them. That even in a new life, their lives were so intrinsically tangled together that couldn’t be anything but a group.

“By the way, boys.” Geoff said, putting his glass of whiskey down and sitting up a bit straighter in his seat. Gavin immediately straightened up, detecting the change in Geoff even when intoxicated. “Make sure you’re still alive by two tomorrow. We’ve still got work to do.”

“Like what?” Michael asked, also detecting the change but not fully understanding what it meant.

“We’re gonna plan a heist.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> be honest, who got the RvB joke?
> 
> also, I realised a while ago that I have original novels that I've been writing for the last 6 years and this is longer than them...


	5. R.N - The Ghost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaannnndddd it's finally done. I don't know if this comes across, but I work on this fic almost every single day. I just want it to be done before my mock exams in February and there's only one more chapter after this one. Drabble side-stories are on the way though, and hopefully they will either answer some questions or just expand the universe a bit more. 
> 
> it's literally midnight when I'm posting this so I hope it's legible and semi-decently edited. (any mistakes I'll probably get to in the next week or so)
> 
> also, this is slightly shorter than the other chapters (11k rather than ~14k words) and that is because of school work (A-Levels are hard and I've cried _so many times_ this term alone) and general writers block that only cleared up about a week ago

Ray woke up just before the alarm on his phone went off. The annoyingly catchy pop song shut off abruptly as he turned off the alarm and he sat up in his bed.

Three hours natural sleep.

That had to be his record this year. (Three whole hours? In one go? Must be the work of God.)

Ray stretched his arms above his head and popped his back, sighing in relief when the pressure dissipated. He checked his phone for messages and stood up from the bed.

His room was still a mess and he had boxes of clothes and possessions scattered around. The only thing he had really unpacked was his gaming stuff: his DS sat proudly on his bedside table from where he left it the previous day and his xBox was displayed proudly beneath the TV that were both stacked on top of his chest of drawers (that was currently empty save for a few loose article of clothing).

It taken a few days to get used to the idea of living in Geoff and Jack’s apartment. But in the end, this penthouse was _infinitely_  nicer than their last apartment and at least they were safe there. Ray had managed to peak at the invoices from the contractors Geoff had hired to ‘ _renovate_ ’ the apartment.

Soundproofing, reinforced walls, sophisticated security system that Ray couldn’t understand, one room that had been decked out with an incredible amount of protection and security.

Pretty hardcore stuff.

Ray opened one of the boxes on his floor and pulled out a shirt, hoodie and shorts. He slipped the shorts and shirt on but he paused before the hoodie. Back on his bedside table, Ray grabbed a thin chain with a small, stylised crucifix dangling from it. He gently hung the chain around his neck and tucked it under his shirt. The metal was a little cold against his skin, but in a good way.

Someone knocked on his door and Ray pulled the hoodie on before he opened it.

Gavin was stood on the other side of the door, looking surprisingly put together considering how much he’d been drinking the previous night.

“Hey X-Ray.” Gavin said, his smile too bright for whatever time it was. The nickname had originated somewhere in the last few days after a sarcastic comment from Ray and an enthusiastic response from Gavin. (A small part of him hoped it stuck).

“Hey Vav.” Ray replied easily as he rubbed some sleep from his eyes.

“Geoff wanted to see if you were awake yet, since the meeting’s in ten minutes.” Gavin admitted.

“Don’t sweat it, I’ve been up for hours.” Ray half-lied. He _had_  been up for hours, just not when he’s implied. Gavin’s eyes slid over to the unmade bed but he still did his little half-smile at Ray and lead the way to where the meeting would be, predictably (turns out it was the room at the end of the corridor - Ray had assumed that was a closet of some kind).

Gavin stopped outside the room that Ray knew had been practically bomb-proofed and tapped in a short sequence of numbers into a small key panel hidden behind a strategically placed picture frame on the wall. It was a _little_  cheesy, but Ray felt he could roll with it.

Gavin opened the door and let Ray go in front of him. Everyone else was already there and Ray took the last available seat that was between Michael and Jack. He turned the chair around so he was sat on it backwards and folded his arms on the back of it.

Honestly, Ray could understand becoming fast friends with Gavin: he was a little weird and a tad over-enthusiastic sometimes to the point of accidental destruction and his accent was fun to mimic. What really surprised Ray was how much he enjoyed being around Jack and Geoff at this point.

“Alright, now we’re all here, let’s get on with this shit.” Geoff said, standing up from his chair and moving to the far wall. He pinned up a large map that Ray realised was of Los Santos.

It was incredibly detailed and Ray knew that this must have cost a fair amount to keep under the radar. Geoff produced a sharpie from somewhere and turned to make sure they were all paying attention.

“Right, to celebrate Michael and Ray joining the family, we’re gonna rob a bank.” Geoff said, circling one specific spot of the map. Ray tried to ignore the strangely warm feeling of acceptance at the word ‘ _family_ ’.

“Most families go out to dinner.” Michael quipped. Geoff made a sort of half-laugh at that, but that didn’t stop his little speech.

“Most families don’t have as many guns.” Geoff said. “Anyway, this is the bank we’re gonna hit. And we’re gonna be in three teams: me, Gav and Michael are going to be _in_  the bank actually robbing it, Ray: you’re gonna be on the roof of _this_  building here that’s opposite it and you’re going to be out lookout.” He punctuated his words with small marks on the map behind him.

“What about Jack?” Michael asked, looking like he was studying the map.

“Jack’s the getaway girl.” Geoff said, directing his half-smile at Jack now. “Your pilot licence is still valid, right?”

“Of course it is.” Jack assured him. “Chopper or jet?”

“Chopper. We’re going to need a quick getaway this time, but it has to be maneuverable.” Geoff said. “Los Santos recently upped the police force, so we’re going to have to do something to draw them away.”

“You mean like commit a small crime so they don’t focus on the big crime?” Ray asked to clarify.

“It’s worked before.” Gavin reasoned, shrugging slightly.

“Anyway,” Geoff said, drawing the Lad’s attention back to him. “There’s an empty building on the other side of town that we know the cops are monitoring. So we’re gonna blow it up just before we start the heist. Gavin and Michael, that’s going to be your job, alright. You know a little about things that explode, right Michael?”

“I dabbled in pyrotechnics.” Michael admitted, a hint of pride in his voice. What he failed to mention was the burn marks on his side from when he was stupid playing around and nearly got caught on fire. Ray remembered seeing them for the first time on accident and Michael shyly explaining the story to him.

“Good. You two are going to put C4 all around the building and start _hauling ass_. You detonate the explosives and get the fuck out of there before any cops show up.” Geoff marked the warehouse on the map and drew a long line down the road they were meant to take to the bank. “We’ll regroup here and then it’s heist time.”

“So this whole time, I’ll be getting the chopper?” Jack asked.

“You’re going to be the one driving Michael and Gavin from the warehouse to the bank and once you drop them off, _then_  you go get the chopper. You’ll have to ditch the car somewhere and I’ll get the B-Team to take care of the rest.”

“Who the fuck is B-Team?” Michael asked, distracted from the main topic of conversation.

“You think we did all of this by ourselves?” Jack asked. “We’ve had a little help along the way.”

“If you’re lucky, you’ll never have to see the B-Team.” Gavin said, his voice a tad grave.

“After we rob the bank and Jack picks us up, Ray, you’re gonna take a bike and meet us back here. We’re gonna lose the cops and circle our way back here, so don’t be too worried if we take some time.” Geoff said, directing his words to Ray. He drew the line along the road Ray was to take.

“All I’m hearing is I probably have enough time to jerk off before you get back.” Ray joked, leaning back in his chair easily.    

“Just make sure you clean up after yourself.” Geoff warned, capping the pen. “Any questions?”

“I have one,” Another voice said, making everyone’s head turn to the door. “Where do I come in?”

“You want a job in the heist, Ryan?” Geoff asked, completely honest about his surprise at the idea.

“It’s my job to protect you all and you think that I’d let you do something reckless without me?” Ryan asked, the smile clear in his voice. At least it sounded like a smile.

“You really want in?” Jack asked. “It’s could be dangerous.”

“I’ve been a little bored lately, to be honest.” Ryan said, rolling his shoulders and pushing them back slightly so he looked more threatening. Geoff caught Jack’s eye and she gave the slightest of nods.

“Okay buddy, you’re with me, Gavin and Michael in the bank. You’ll help us keep the hostages all under control while we rob them and then you’re riding with Ray.” Geoff said.

“What?” Ray didn’t mean to blurt that out, or for it to sound so… surprised, but in his defence…. Well, he really didn’t have one.

“Is that a problem? All you’re doing is sharing a bike to get away from the cops on.” Geoff said. Ray had a quip in mind but it died in his throat so he just swallowed awkwardly and shook his head.

“No, there’s no problem.” Ray said, maybe a little _too_  casually. He avoided the look from Michael and pretended to study the map again.

“Alright then, Ryan, you’re with Ray when we’re making our getaway.” Geoff said. “We start the heist in two days. Final prep is tomorrow and then we heist!”

“So what are we doing today?” Michael asked.

“Shopping.” Gavin replied easily. He was already getting up out of his seat. Ray had a funny feeling that Gavin liked this part of the heist.

“We’re forgetting something, Geoff.” Jack pointed out.

“Oh, right! Gav, you’re up.” Geoff said, holding out the pen. Gavin practically jumped out of his seat and took the pen off Geoff, who went and sat in Gavin’s chair on the other side to Jack.

“Right boys, now it’s codename time.” Gavin said proudly, standing to the side of the Los Santos map in front of a whiteboard.

“Codenames?” Michael repeated.

“Jack, you’re Beardo.” Gavin began, quickly writing the names and codenames on the whiteboard behind him. “Geoff, this time you’re Corpirate. Ray, you’re X-Ray. I’m going to be Vav. Ryan, You’re going to be the Mad King.”

“How come he gets such a cool codename?” Geoff demanded.

“‘ _Corpirate’s’_ pretty cool.” Gavin defended.

“What’s my codename?” Michael asked.

“You’re Mogar.” Gavin said, a proud smile on his face. Ray glanced over and saw Michael’s shoulders tense and relax so fast that he would have missed it if he was anyone else. But Ray wasn’t an amazing shot for nothing, and he rarely missed when something was off about Michael.

“Sounds pretty good.” Michael said.

“So now, we prepare.” Geoff said, standing up grandly. Well, this was going to be fun.

***

“Ray, Michael, you busy?” Geoff asked, walking up along the back of the sofa where Michael and Ray were sat battling each other in Halo.

“Nope.” Ray said, delivering the final shot and dropping his controller onto the table in front of him. The ‘ _victory_ ’ message showed up on the screen and Ray looked over at Michael with barely any hint of being smug on his face. “What do you need, Geoff?”

“We need to wrap up some final prep before the heist tomorrow.” Geoff said.

“You and Jack?” Michael asked, much calmer than he had been before.

“There’s a deal with some low-level drug lord that we’d rather just get done so we can focus on bigger things.” Geoff admitted. “You in?”

“Can we get something to eat afterwards?” Ray asked.

“Sure, we’ll treat you guys to a nice meal.” Geoff promised.

“What about Gavin?” Michael asked, speaking up.   

“He’s busy getting the ammo Jack bought. And he’s pretty much useless when it comes to these kind of meetings.” Geoff said. He pulled on his jacket and Ray finally realised that he was dressed in his standard suit but he had a bowtie on and his shirt buttoned up to his collar. Most days he had the top few buttons undone and Ray was almost certain that it was to impress Jack.

“So are we going now?” Ray asked, standing up and adjusting his hoodie slightly. Geoff just nodded and fastened his jacket with a slightly flourish.

“Jack’s going to meet us there, so we’re taking my car.” Geoff said, picking his keys out of a bowl beside the door. Michael stood up and shrugged on the leather jacket that he’d bought the day before as a present to himself. It had the image of a wolf’s (bear’s? Some kind of large, furry animal) head printed across the back and Ray had to admit it looked good on him.

“Let’s get going, boys.” Geoff said, opening the front door and leaving without waiting for Ray and Michael to follow him. He knew they would.

***

“Wait,” Geoff said as Ray was about to open the car door. The drive over had been filled with idle chat and last minute reassurances about the heist. “One last thing.”

Geoff reached over Michael in the passenger seat and opened the glove box. He pulled out two _somethings_  from the glovebox and threw one in Michael’s lap and one to Ray in the back.

Ray picked up the object and held it in his hands gingerly. It was a mask. Plain; white; a black ribbon to tie it. It was simple but Ray felt something tug in his chest as he ran his finger over the plastic.

Michael took no time in tying the mask to his face but Ray took a moment to try and sort through the weird feeling in his chest before he did the same. Ray looked up and met Geoff’s eye in the rear-view mirror. He looked sympathetic.  

“What’s with the theatrics, Geoff?” Michael asked, admiring himself in the side mirror.

“You’re still new.” Geoff said. “We don’t want you guys to have mug shots just get.”

Geoff got out the car, shutting the door behind him.

“Let’s go be criminals, Ray.” Michael said, a strange note of excitement in his voice as he checked his gun one last time and got out the car.

Ray took a small breath and hid his gun in his hoodie pocket as he joined the other two on the outside of the car. Michael clapped him on the shoulder in a silent show of solidarity and they both followed Geoff inside the large warehouse.

A single, solid oak desk stood with a chair behind it stood at the other end of the warehouse. Geoff walked over to it with no hesitation and sat in the chair, stretching out luxuriously. Ray couldn’t help but feel this wasn’t the first time he’d been through this process. He glanced over at Michael as they were walking to Geoff’s side. Michael seemed relaxed but Ray knew from experience that could easily be an act.

“So what do you want us to do?” Ray asked, sticking his hands in his shorts pockets.  

“I need you to stand on either side of me. You’ve both got your guns, right?” Geoff asked, looking between them as they took up position either side of him. Geoff reached into a drawer in the desk and Ray caught a glimpse of a gun as Geoff pulled out a magazine, placing it on the desk in a specific way.

“Of course we do.” Michael promised him. The sound of a car pulling up seemed to echo through the warehouse and Ray suddenly felt his palms sweat.

“Good. Now don’t say anything while they’re here and know when to shoot.” Geoff said. He leant forwards so his elbows were resting on the desk in front of him. Ray noticed the tattoos on his knuckles and wondered vaguely how much it hurt.

Three men walked in the warehouse and Ray snapped to attention, masking any emotion on his face. They looked well put together, but nowhere near as sharp as Geoff.

“What do you want Ramsey, we’re busy people?” The man in the middle of the trio demanded.  

“If you got the money to us on time, then we wouldn’t be having this problem.” Geoff pointed out.

“What’s with the new kids?” The man on the left said, pointing to Michael and Ray.

“Shut up, they’re not important.” The man in the middle snapped at the man on the left. (Ray dubbed him ‘Leftie’ in his mind; the man on the right was ‘Rightie’, though he hadn’t said a single word yeet).

“What _is_  important is getting me what you owe.” Geoff interrupted. Ray resisted the urge to react in any way to Geoff’s ‘ _no nonsense’_ tone of voice. “We had a deal and so far, you’re not holding up your end of the bargain.”

“Where is the girl?” Middle said, completely switching tracks in the most non-subtle way Ray could imagine. “I liked doing business with her.”

As if on cue, an engine cut out right outside the warehouse door and Ray glanced over to watch Jack enter. There was something different about her and it took a few seconds for Ray to place _why_. Even though he’d only personally known Jack for a couple weeks, he knew what her usual style was; blood red lipstick, dark eyeshadow and winged eyeliner wasn’t a regular part of it. Her bone structure looked a little different as well and it was jarring to see the sexy makeup coupled with her typical frizzy-curly bob, shorts and Hawaiian shirt.

She stripped off her jacket as she walked, casually throwing them onto a box that she passed. Jack barely paid the men any attention as she walked up to the desk and sat on it, picking up the magazine Geoff had laid out and flipping it open.

“How much longer are you going to make us wait?” Jack asked, not looking up from the magazine. It was obvious who she was talking to, and Ray saw the three men shift awkwardly. “We agreed on fifty grand by now.”

“We need some more time-” Leftie began.

“Bullshit.” Geoff interrupted. Ray didn’t miss how Leftie flinched at that.

“We’re not fucking morons.” Jack said. Ray saw Michael glance at him out of the corner of his eye and he had to agree. That tone of voice was _fucking scary_.

They may not have known Jack for long, and they knew she could hold her own but they never thought of her as threatening. (She wore bright Hawaiian shirts every day for fucks sake).

“You have until the end of the day to get us our money.” Geoff said. Suddenly, Ray had no doubt in his mind that Geoff and Jack were _hardcore_  and not to be fucked with.

“We can’t do that.” Rightie finally spoke up.

“Tough shit.” Jack said. Ray fought the urge to shout something akin to ‘ _fucking got ‘em!_ ’ in the otherwise silent warehouse.

“Give us two days-” Middle began to plead.

“Twenty-four hours, motherfucker.” Geoff said.

“Twenty-three.” Jack said, practically glaring at the trio in front of her over the top of the magazine.

“Twenty-three.” Geoff agreed. “You have twenty-three hours to get us our money or we send Tuggey ‘round to deal with you. Can you afford to lose that many men again?” He asked, a sly smile on his face that made Ray think that there was a _lot_  that he didn’t know yet.

“We’ll get you your damn money.” Middle snapped. He turned on his heel and Leftie and Rightie followed as the three of them marched out.

Ray waited until he heard the car leave before he let out the breath he was holding. He looked over at Geoff and Jack and after that display, he didn’t know who he was the most attracted to, in all honesty.

“Remind me to never fuck with you guys.” Ray said. He saw Michael take off his mask and reluctantly did the same.

“Who’s Tuggey?” Michael asked, stuffing the mask into his pocket.

“She the leader of B-Team.” Jack said, finally closing the magazine and putting it back on the desk.

“And she’s got enough of a reputation to scare low-lifes shitless.” Geoff added, a note of pride in his voice. Ray wondered vaguely if they’d ever meet her.

“Come on, let’s go treat you boys to some lunch.” Jack said, hopping off the desk. Geoff put the magazine back in the drawer, took out a small package and stood up, adjusting his suit jacket. “I’ll meet you at the restaurant. Usual place?” Jack said, pulling the car keys out of her pocket.

“Yup. See you there.” Geoff said, pulling her in for a quick kiss. Ray averted his eyes but he glanced back in time to see Geoff slowly remove his arm from Jack’s waist and handing her the package from his desk drawer. “You did great.” He whispered, a fond smile on his face.  

“So did you.” Jack breathed back to him, taking the package and quickly giving him one last kiss before going back to her car.

Michael caught Ray’s eye and he had the same ‘ _well this is awkward_ ’ expression on his face that Ray presumed he had. Ray simply shrugged back, his hands deep in his short pockets.

“Okay boys?” Geoff asked, noting the looks on their face.

“Yup.” Michael said casually. “So, food?”

***

“So what did you do?” Michael asked, engrossed in the story.

“I accidentally cut his dick off.” Jack admitted, leaning back in her seat. Geoff started laughing at the Ray’s stunned silence and Michael’s pained face. “I didn’t mean to. I just kind of _stabbed_ him and it hit the wrong part.” Jack defended, keeping her voice a little low so she wasn’t likely to be overheard.

Ray felt more at ease now that Jack was back to her normal self (apparently the package Geoff had passed her make-up wipes. Who knew?). He preferred the maternal, ‘ _Gavin-for-fucks-sake-don’t-touch-those-grenades-in-the-apartment-what-are-you-doing-are-you-trying-to-get-yourself-killed-just-give-it-to-Michael-and-go-help-Geoff-with-dinner'_  Jack that he was so used to.

“You cut his dick _off_?” Michael repeated, wincing and bringing his knees together.

“He had it coming.” Jack said, shrugging easily. Geoff was still laughing but Ray thought he saw something change in Jack’s posture that didn’t happen in Geoff’s. Usually when they were telling stories, if something was wrong, they’d both had some kind of reaction. Weird…

“So then what?” Ray asked, wanting to know how the story ended.

“So then Tuggey just kind of stares at me when I grab her arm and tell her we need to leave. I managed to call Geoff and he picks us up, driving us somewhere safe and the moment we get there, Tuggey just turns to me and demands a job with us.” Jack said, stirring her milkshake lazily with one hand as she recounted the story. “She told me that she wanted us on her side no matter what. We put her in contact with Jenzen, an informant we went to every so often and they came the B-Team.”

“So I guess we’re still not going to meet them any time soon?” Ray asked.

“Not unless you fuck up tomorrow. Badly.” Geoff pointed out. Ray wondered why that felt so... _final_.

“Let’s hope everything goes smoothly then.” Michael said, taking a sip of his beer and shooting a look to Ray.

What had they gotten themselves into.

***

That night before the heist, Ray couldn’t sleep.

What else was new?

He checked the time on his phone and felt surprised that it was only two in the morning. The heist wasn’t meant to start until three that afternoon.

Ray pulled his hoodie on over his bare chest, making sure he didn’t catch his pendant on it, and slipped some shorts on over his boxers. He slipped out of his room and doubled checked that everyone was asleep. (He didn’t need another lecture about getting enough sleep).

The balcony door was slightly ajar and Ray stepped onto it, breathing in the cold air like it could cure his insomnia. Ray walked up to the railing and leaned on it as far as he would let himself.

The city was beautiful at night, but so different to New York. So different to where he grew up.

“Too nervous to sleep?” Ryan asked, suddenly appearing beside Ray. He was still wearing his leather jacket and Ray wondered how he could be warm enough in it. Now that he thought about it, did Ryan ever wear something else?

“If that’s it, then I’ve been nervous my whole life.” Ray said, his voice pretty level. “Nah, I just needed some air.” He straightened up and stretched his arms above his head. It felt satisfying to feel his spine pop.

“ _Are_  you nervous about the heist tomorrow?” Ryan asked.

“I’d be more nervous is I was actually fighting.” Ray admitted. “All I’m doing is shooting from a roof and driving us back to the apartment.”

“That seems reasonable.” Ryan admitted. He leaned on railing and Ray took a chance to study him.

From his memories, Ryan was broad shouldered and wore formal wear with only a kilt covering his junk and a fancy crown on his head. He had blonde hair that he had brushed out of his face that _screamed_  being fancy and royal. He was blue eyed and blonde haired and probably had dozens of girls in his Kingdom wishing they could either be his wife or be his mistress. (In all honesty, Ray couldn’t blame them.)

This Ryan in front of him had to be the complete opposite. Ray couldn’t see his face, so he didn’t know if he was still blonde and blue-eyed, but the skull mask made of smoke was intimidating enough. The leather jacket and heavy steel-toed boots could only add greatly to the intimidating vibes Ryan gave out. Even the leather _gloves_  he seemed to always have on were scary as shit.

Now Ray thought about it, why did Ryan have so much skin covered? Not even his neck was exposed. He could understand hands and face, but it looked like his shirt seemed to blend into his mask. Or was that the shadows playing tricks on him?

“Ry, can I ask you something?” Ray asked, his voice sombre for once.

“Go for it, Ray.” Ryan said, looking over the city. If he could see his face, Ray imagined Ryan would have some childish look of wonder on his face. He had so many questions to ask, but he chickened out of all but one of them floating around in his head.

“Why didn’t I have a watcher?” Ray asked, looking over the city as well. He saw Ryan shift in his peripheral vision and he sensed Ryan’s hand closing in on his neck.

For some reason, he knew he should have been afraid, but he wasn’t. He felt no fear even when Ryan’s leather-covered fingers brushed against his skin and curled under the metal chain around his neck.

“Do you remember when you got this?” Ryan asked, running his thumb over the small crucifix. He asked the question like a teacher testing if their student was really paying attention to what he was teaching, but infinitely less patronising.

“I’ve always had it dude.” Ray said, turning to face Ryan fully.

“You’ve worn it every day?” Ryan asked. Ray detected the small about of pride and surprise in his voice as he said that.

“Yup. Gotta stay close to God.” Ray said, his jester side beginning to show.

“It’s _this_.” Ryan said, holding the pendant up slightly. “This is the reason you didn’t have a watcher. Do you remember anything about this?”

“Dude, as far as I know, I’ve just always worn this. I think it’s cool.” Ray admitted. If he knew better, he would have thought the shift in Ryan’s posture was a sign of sorrow.

“So what about me?” Ryan asked. Ray could imagine the little tilt of his face was so he could look him in the eye.

“I couldn’t remember anything about you until Jack remembered your name.” Ray admitted. He couldn’t stop the small note of apology in his voice, but he wasn’t quite sure of what he was sorry for.

 _I’m sorry I couldn’t remember you._  

(Because that didn’t sound lame and lovesick.)

“That actually explains a lot. Why you and Michael didn’t recognise me the whole time you knew I existed.” Ryan admitted.

“Doesn’t really explain why my necklace is so important.” Ray pointed out.

“You gave this to me.” Ryan said suddenly. He let go of the pendant and it landed against Ray’s chest lightly. “Before the last battle, you pulled me aside and gave me this necklace. You told me it could keep me safe. So when the time came, I made sure it could keep you safe. _That’s_  why you never had a watcher.”

“So long story short, _you_  were my watcher this whole time.” Ray said. “That’s some cheesy romance novel shit.”

Ryan laughed and Ray hated how his own mind betrayed it at that moment. He smelt the leather of Ryan’s jacket and felt his heart begin to speed up in his chest.

“Ray, what do you remember of me _now_?” Ryan asked, letting the question hang in the air between them for a while.

“I remember that we were close.” Ray answered cautiously. In actual fact, he remembered a lot more than that.

“Anything else?”

“You wore a kilt a lot.” Ray said bluntly. Ryan laughed at that and moved slightly away from Ray as he did so. Ray felt himself breathe again now there was a bit more space between them.

“I miss the kilt sometimes.” Ryan admitted, going back to looking at the city.

“Really?” Ray heard more amusement in his voice than he though he put in there.

“It was roomy.” Ryan said innocently, but he did the smallest swing of his hips to fully get his point across.  

“You dork.” Ray said, huffing out alaugh. Another question was pressing against his tongue, practically _begging_  to be asked. But Ray couldn’t do it. He forced it down.

“You should try and get some sleep.” Ryan said softly.

“If I could, then I wouldn’t be out here with you.” Ray countered. “Why are you up anyway?”

“I don’t sleep.” Ryan said casually. He said it like it was the simplest fact in the world. The sky was blue; grass was green; Ryan didn’t sleep.

“You don’t eat, you don’t sleep.” Ray huffed a small laugh and the corner of his mouth twisted in a smile. “Face it, you’re never gonna make it.”

“I’m sure that’s a reference I’m never going to get.” Ryan said, amusement practically dripping from his voice.

“Probably not.” Ray admitted. “You wanna play a video game until the others wake up?”

“I- I don’t think I’ve played a videogame.” Ryan admitted.

“Ever?”

“Ever.” Ryan said. He offered no explanation why, but Ray wasn’t sure he _wanted_  an answer.

“Well then I’ll give you a crash course in the best thing that’ll ever happen to you.” Ray said, practically dragging Ryan back inside the apartment and sitting him on the couch. He turned on the shared xBox and made sure the volume was low enough so that he didn’t wake up the others.

“Now let’s see…” Ray said, scrolling through the library of games before finally settling on one and pulling it up.

***

Ray couldn’t remember falling asleep, but he imagined it was sometime before dawn. He didn’t remember what he dreamed/remembered.

And some times Ray _really_  hated his mind. More specifically, he _hated_  the memories that came with it.

He was stood in a ballroom of some kind. From the strange star emblem that hung from tapestried on the wall, Ray knew he must have been in Geoff’s _monolith_  of a castle.

This must have been some kind of midsummer ball because Ray watched as he saw Gavin dancing with a girl who was some noble from Ryan’s kingdom. His niece or something. (Megan; was that it?) She was dressed in the same shade of red as her hair and Gavin seemed to be chatting to her easily, like they were old friends.

He spied Michael talking to another red-haired girl, except she was dressed in a red gown made of some feathery material (holy shit were those _actually_  feathers?!) that fell to the floor and had draping chains instead of shoulder straps.

Michael seemed to be the only man not dressed in some kind of expensive outfit. He was dressed in his ' _casual_ ’ pelts and leather armour. The only difference was the lack of a weapon and some new, temporary markings along his arms and face that looked like they were golden in colour.

Ray knew he stood out amongst the other royals and guests. His suit looked too plain, too out-of-place amongst everyone else. Even dressed up, he looked too plain amongst the others. His crown was a simple circlet that rested on his head. He didn’t wear any jewellery or special armour except a single, thin chain around his neck that his mother had given him before she died.

His kingdom wasn’t one for ultra-extravagance like Geoff was. He didn’t grow food like Jack. He wasn’t militant like Ryan or a warrior like Michael.

The only reason he was in the alliance was because of his mineral mines. His people mined and traded minerals and diamonds to merchants and other kingdoms. He was rich but his people were modest and lived in simple wealth. Not like these people. He didn’t belong here.

Ray pulled his jacket closer around himself and began moving towards the staircase that led to the balcony. The night air was chilly and Ray breathed it in. It was so much colder than his own kingdom. He leaned against the cast iron railing and looked over the kingdom. There was something about being high enough to see for miles that Ray loved.

“Not enjoying the party?” Ryan asked, walking up to the railing and standing beside Ray.

“It’s the same as the one last year. And the year before that.” Ray admitted. “It tends to get a little repetitive.”

“I can understand that.” Ryan admitted. “Believe it or not, this used to be even more tame.”

“You’re lying to me.”

“According to my mother, the Ramsey’s once refused to serve any kind of alcohol at the festival ball.” Ryan said.

“Neither of us drink, Haywood.” Ray pointed out. He wanted to change the subject. Ryan _never_  talked about his family and the fact he’d given him this little scrap of information brought to mind too many implications for Ray.

“But the others have already had a few glasses. And I’ve always found it’s funnier to _observe_  drunken behaviour than to exhibit it.” Ryan said musingly. “Ray, I would like to ask your opinion on something.” He said, straightening his back to stand a bit taller.

“If this is about the possibility of an oncoming war against the kingdoms, then you _know_  my opinion on this, Haywood.” Ray said, watching as a few of the lights in the village below went out as the inhabitants went to sleep.

“I refuse to believe that you are as apathetic as you try and pretend to be.” Ryan admitted, his voice hardening ever so slightly.

“Well, what else can I be when I am no use in a war. And I still believe it is foolish of the rest of you to think you can fight in this war like your soldiers. I can understand Michael fighting along his people, but I don’t understand why the rest of you are so keen to die with your people.” Ray said, feeling his own anger and fear beginning to boil his blood.

“Then why are so you eager for our people to die instead of you?” Ryan demanded.

“My people can’t fight. My kingdom is built on mining precious metals; I barely have an army! The closest thing I have is a small guild of spies!” Ray protested, getting angry against his will. “What makes you think I can help you win a war!”

Ryan’s hand rested against Ray’s cheek. The contact was gentle and sudden and shut Ray up as effectively as if Ryan had stolen his vocal cords. His skin was softer than Ray would have expected and he hated that he noticed.

“Oh, Ray.” Ryan said softly. “There is more to war than fighting. An army is only as good as it’s support, and because of the alliance between our kingdoms, even the smallest army will be able to perform more than admirably. I wouldn’t worry Ray: you, alone, are more than enough to help us win any war that we could face.”

Ryan moved his hand away and Ray almost wished he hadn’t. _Almost_.  He forced himself to believe that he felt nothing with that touch.

“So what? We just wait to see if war _does_  happen?” Ray asked.

“That and pray negotiations work out. Other than that, there’s not a lot we can do.” Ryan admitted.

Suddenly, Ray had had enough. He was tired of forcing down his feelings. Tired of pretending everything was alright. Tired of pretending he was good enough to be a royal, let alone a _king_.

“Fuck it.” Ray barely whispered before he grabbed the front of Ryan’s jacket and pulled him close enough to kiss him.

He felt Ryan’s hands settle on his hips and his grip tightened on the material of the other king’s jacket. Ray barely felt the cold anymore as he stood, pressed against Ryan with their lips moving together. He let go of Ryan’s jacket and tangled his hands in Ryan’s hair.

Ryan pulled away but kept the contact by leaning his forehead on Ray’s. He was significantly taller than the younger King, so it was a little awkward but neither of them seemed to care.

“What changed your mind?” Ryan asked, his voice gentle.

“If we _are_  going to war, then I want to go with no regrets.” Ray said.

“I guess what they say about your people is true.” Ryan said, a small chuckle in his voice. “You’re all impulsive.”

“We’re all aware that we only have one life.” Ray said fairly. “And your kingdom took all the cautious sensibilities.”

“Well someone has to be.” Ryan said fairly.

The memory was broken as his eyes slowly opened and he saw Geoff standing over him, shaking his shoulder.

“The heist’s in three hours, buddy.” Geoff said gently. “Go take a shower and we’ll do last checks.”

Ray glanced down at himself. He realised he had fallen asleep on the sofa and now had a blanket draped over himself. A quick check showed he wasn’t wearing his pendant, but it had been wrapped loosely around his wrist so he didn’t lose it.

“How’d you end up here?” Geoff asked, standing up straight. He didn’t sound angry or anything like that. The tone of his voice sounded like a parent wondering when their child had snuck into their bed in the middle of the night.

“I was playing some Black Ops with Ryan.” Ray said, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

He liked to think that Geoff muttered something like ‘ _kids_ ’ as he playfully jostled Ray’s shoulder. Ray smiled and stood up, going to take a cold shower to wake himself up.

***

Ray watched the others through the scope of his rifle and tried desperately to focus on the situation at hand and not of the fact that Geoff had pulled Ryan aside just before the heist and now something in his demeanour had changed. Ray couldn’t pin down _what_  but it was enough of a change for him to pick up on.

He mentally yelled at himself to concentrate and looked back at the approaching car.

Ray knew that Geoff was currently waiting for Michael and Gavin to arrive for the heist to begin. The warehouse had already been blown to bits, so it was only a matter of minutes before they got there.  

The earpiece in his ear was uncomfortable and reminded him a little too much of the cheap headsets he would wear when playing against obnoxious twelve years olds over xBox Live. The microphone was poised just in front of his mouth and Ray’s stomach had one particularly pointed bit of gravel digging into it.

His hoodie was pulled up and he was lying on his front on the rooftop, being as invisible as possible. His backpack was laid out next to him and he had a small tablet propped up that Gavin had hooked up to the local police station’s network. It told him how many officers were on duty, how many were out on a job and he even had access to their radio system. Between the headphone letting him listen in and the earpiece that kept him connected to the rest of the Crew, Ray had a hard time focusing on inputs that weren’t heist-related.

“ _How are you doing, X-Ray?_ ” Geoff’s voice sounded in his ear and he looked through the scope to see Geoff glance up at his hiding place. The only relief he had was the fact that Geoff had his phone to his ear as he loitered on the street, making it look like he was just calling someone.

It was jarring seeing him in the clothes they’d picked out for the heist. Casual. Forgettable. Not-Geoff at all.

Forgettable was Ray’s shtick.

“I’m doing pretty good, boss.” Ray replied. “Getting a bit bored, though. Do you think I can hit a pigeon from up here? Hypothetically, of course.”   

“ _Aww, what have you got against the pigeons?_ ” Gavin’s voice sounded in Ray’s ear and he smiled at the fact his accent clipped most of his words.

“Nothing, I just wonder if I can hit one of the flying rats from their turf.” Ray said, shifting slightly to get a bit more comfortable. Next time he was bringing a pillow.

“ _You’re not flying, Ray. You’re not on their turf._ ” Michael pointed out. He distantly heard Gavin saying something about codenames.

“Not yet.” Ray said, training his sights on a car that rounded the corner. He knew what that meant and he watched as two people got out the back and made their way to the bank.

“ _Get ready boys_.” Geoff warned, hanging up his pretend call and walking into the bank half a minute before Michael and Gavin did. The fourth figure appeared and walked in the bank behind them.

Ray felt himself hold his breath as he waited for the signal that the heist had started. He started counting seconds.

_58…_

_59…_

_60..._

“ _Let’s heist_.” Geoff’s voice was immediately followed by Michael and Gavin shouting for people to get down and hand over the money. He could hear that Ryan’s voice was much fainter than the other three’s and prayed that everything went alright.

“ _Ray, I’m going to turn my earpiece off now_.” Jack’s voice was steady and comforting to hear. “ _Use the flare if anything goes wrong. Otherwise, I’ll see you in a few minutes_.”

“Got it.” Ray promised. “What happened to the code names?”

“ _They’re more of a formality_.” Jack said and Ray could hear the smile in her voice before there was a small burst of static and the line went dead.

Ray turned his attention back to the others and kept his sights trained on the street below him. Nothing was happening outside the Bank so far, but Ray knew it as only a matter of time before the tell-tale sirens of cop cars would reach him and then it was a race as to who got back to the apartment first.

The police radio started talking about a disturbance and Ray mentally cursed.

“The cops are onto us.” Ray warned, adjusting his grip on the sniper rifle. “I’d start wrapping it up.”

“ _On it, X-Ray_.” Gavin’s voice promised.  

Ray began counting the seconds in his head, watching the street vigilantly. He tried to ignore his Crew’s - his _families_  - shouts and the sounds of guns going off and civilians crying and begging for their lives.

It wasn’t that it was traumatic or anything; Ray just wanted to focus on the police scanners telling him how far away the cops were and everything else was distracting.

“Guys, the cops are getting closer. I’d seriously suggest speeding things along in there.” Ray said.

“ _We’re almost done, X-Ray, calm the fuck down_.” Michael snapped.

“They’re here.” Ray said, following the police cars as they came up the street. He began firing, trying to take out drivers, wheels, gas tanks, _anything_  to slow them down.

“ _Done_.” Geoff practically announced. Ray saw four figures barrell out of the front doors and began firing wildly at the cop cars as well, diving behind cars for cover. “ _Where’s Jack?!_ ”

“She turned off her earpiece.” Ray said, shooting some of the cops that got out their cars to shoot at the Crew.

“ _Fuck! Again?!_ ” Geoff shouted. Ray couldn’t help but smile at that. “ _Shit. X-Ray get ready to shoot that flare_.”

Ray pulled the flare out of his backpack and propped himself up enough to shoot the flare into the sky. He knew that the moment he pulled the trigger, his position would be revealed and there was a good chance that the cops would start going after him.

“ _Ray, as soon as you shoot, start running. Ryan, you grab the bike and you two need to get the fuck out of here. Meet us back at the apartment_.” Geoff ordered. “ _Get ready, Ray."_   

“Ready when you are, boss.” Ray said, firing a few more sloppy times with only one hand on the gun.

“ _Three, two, one. NOW!_ ” Geoff shouted. Ray pulled the flare gun’s trigger and he heard the four below him start firing rapidly.

As soon as Ray shot the flare he gathered the tablet and stuffed it in his backpack along with the flare gun. He slung the sniper over his shoulder and tucked it between the his back and the backpack. Ray didn’t dare look over the edge as he ran to the fire escape ladder and furiously climbed down.

True to his word (or orders), Ryan was waiting at the bottom with the motorcycle, the engine already started and ready to go.

“Fuck no, I’m driving.” Ray said. “Shift over.”

Ryan seemed amused if anything but he did shift backwards so Ray could take the front of the seat to drive. Ray huffed in his small victory and took the driver’s seat. He wasted no time before tearing off, making as much noise as possible.

“Jack’s here.” Ryan said, his voice very close to Ray’s ear but he had no idea if that was an illusion or not. The sounds of a chopper ran down the street and Ray felt the knot of anxiety in his chest lessen.

Now he just had to have faith in his friends.

Police sirens finally edged in one his senses and Ray swore.

“You still have your gun on you?” Ray asked.

“Yup.” Ryan said, the sound of the gun cocking sounded behind him. “Sorry about this Ray.” He warned before Ray felt an arm wind around his waist.

Ray could only trust in what Ryan was doing as he pretended that his quickly beating heart was from the adrenaline of the police chase.

“Hang on.” Ray said, turning so sharply he felt his shoe scuff on the tarmac. He darted down a side street and swerved onto a highway. Cars honked at him but Ray ignored them, weaving in and out of them almost expertly and he felt Ryan’s other arm wrap around him.

“Take that exit.” Ryan said, pointing forwards at a road that curved off.

“We have to lose the cops.” Ray said, glancing behind him to see at least two more cop cars on their tail. Ryan let out a sharp hiss and Ray felt his hands clench in the material over his stomach. “You okay, man?” Ray asked, not able to glance over his shoulder at the other man as he drove precariously, trying to get lost in the crowd.

“I think I got hit.” Ryan said, but his voice sounded _way_  more surprised than it should after getting shot.

“Holy shit, are you okay?” Ray asked, quickly avoiding colliding with a car.

“I think so.” Ryan admitted. “Though this is the first time I’ve ever been shot.”

“I’ll quickly lose the cops then we’ll get you patched up, okay? Stay with me Rye. You’ll be fine.” Ray couldn’t tell who he was reassuring more.

“Ray, it doesn’t hurt that much-” Ryan tried to reassure Ray, his arms tightening around him just a little bit more.

“Bullshit.” Ray snapped. “Getting shot _hurts_  Ryan. Don’t bullshit the bullshitter.”

***

Ray practically jumped off the bike the moment he had parked it and whipped around to make sure Ryan didn’t fall off the bike or something stupid. He noticed that Ryan’s sleeve had ridden up and he saw a thin strip of skin between his gloves and sleeve. That was new.

But Ray had to push it from his mind as he hauled Ryan’s arm over his shoulder and helped him to his feet. The lift ride up to the apartment was silent and Ray honestly began to feel worried at how silent Ryan was.

“You alright there, Skully?” Ray asked, shifting Ryan’s weight  so it was a bit more comfortable.

“I told you I’m fine.” Ryan insisted but Ray wasn’t convinced.

Ray opened the door and almost stumbled under Ryan’s weight.

“Ray?” Ray looked up and saw Jack’s concern gaze looking back at him. “What happened?”

“What the fuck took you so long?” Geoff asked, taking in their appearance from where he was. Ray only just noticed that he was kneeling beside Michael’s leg, pressing a clean towel to it with Gavin opposite him, preparing a sterile needle and thread methodically.

“Ryan got hit and we had to lose the cops.” Ray said simply, beginning to feel his strength fail him. All the adrenaline felt like it had left him and Ray just wanted to crash out. (Insomnia: solved! Just steal from a bank and have your friends nearly die! Perfect!)

“What?!” Jack was immediately up on her feet and walking over to them. She took the arm that Ray was propping up and Ray ducked out, thankful to be rid of the extra weight.

“Ray, get over here.” Geoff ordered, standing up. Ray shook himself into action and quickly took Geoff’s spot, pressing down on the towel on Michael’s leg. He watched as Geoff lowered Ryan onto the coffee table and Jack left to get another first aid kit. Geoff took off the bloody gloves he was wearing and put on a fresh pair to deal with Ryan.

“ _X-Ray_ , you need to remove the towel now.” Gavin said, catching his attention. Ray did as he told and watched as Gavin carefully started stitching together the split skin that ran about four inches down Michael’s leg.

“I have the first aid kit.” Jack said, walking back in and kneeling on the other side of where Ryan was lying on the low coffee table.

“Ray, keep focus.” Geoff practically ordered. Ray shook himself alert and started scrabbling with the things that Gavin told him to grab. He kept watching out of the corner of his eye as Geoff disinfected the tongs and pulled the bullet out.

“Ray, can you wrap his leg while I clean up?” Gavin said, snapping Ray out of his thoughts. Ray took the roll of bandages and carefully, methodically began wrapping Michael’s leg. Michael reached out and gripped Ray’s shoulder, spooking him just a little bit.

“Dude, are you okay?” Michael asked, looking at him worriedly.

“I’m not the one missing a chunk of my leg.” Ray quipped, half-smiling at Michael to reassure him that he was okay.  

“What the fuck?” Geoff muttered, catching everyone’s attention.

Ray looked over and saw that the wound on Ryan’s shoulder was nothing more than a slightly red welt on the skin of his shoulder blade. (He also tried not to notice the fact that Ryan’s was gripping Jack’s hand with white knuckles, as if he was in pain).

“What’s happening?” Ryan asked, turning his head to presumably look at Geoff.

“It healed.” Jack said in disbelief. Her free hand hovered over the wound, as if she wanted to prove to herself that it was in fact _healed_  but not daring to touch his skin.

“Bullshit.” Michael declared, shifting forwards in his seat to see for himself.

Ryan let out a groan and pushed himself to his feet, surprisingly steady considering how much he was leaning on Ray on the way up. He rolled his shoulders and they heard them pop like they had only been a bit stiff and not shot.

“What _are_  you?” Gavin blurted out, obviously without meaning to. Ryan looked over all of them and Ray had a moment where he thought he might have been crazy.

It almost looked like there was a glow behind him for a second. It looked like the same one that happened just before he got his voice back after hugging Jack. The same that Ray thought he saw that morning after Geoff had pulled him aside.

Something about it reminded Ray of old illustrations of angels.

But that was ridiculous. Angels didn’t exist.

Just like living more than one life _never_  happened.

***

“Ryan, wake up.” Ray hissed, shaking Ryan’s shoulder.

After the excitement a few days before, Ryan had crashed out on the sofa each night and the rest of the Crew just let him sleep, no questions asked. (Then again, they only asked questions when one of them came home covered in blood).

Once Michael could put weight on his bad leg, Gavin immediately took him out for ‘ _bevs_ ’ and they _had_  invited Ray along with them for the ride. But Ray’s sobriety would only lead to him carrying their drunk asses home when he had other plans in mind.

Ryan stirred and sat up, turning his face to indicate Ray had his attention.

“I thought you didn’t sleep.” Ray said, a cocky grin on his face.

“Well I do now apparently.” Ryan replied. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m bored and I can’t sleep.” Ray said. “ _And_  I’ve got a couple fireworks in my room.”

“Alright. I’m in.” Ryan said, standing up and waiting patiently for Ray to collect his bag and meet him by the door.

Ray walked to his room and grabbed the duffle bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He stopped outside Michael’s door and didn’t bother knocking before poking his head in. It was almost early morning and there was a fairly good chance that Michael was already awake.

Ray regretted it immediately when he saw two people in Michael’s bed. (He regretted it even more when he recognised the other’s person’s sticky-up hair).

“ _MichaelI’mstealingyourcarthanksseeyoulater_.” Ray hissed, shutting the door quietly and padding down the corridor.

“Everything okay there, Ray?” Ryan asked, looking up as Ray approached.

“Yup. Let’s go Skull-Face.” Ray teased, grabbing the keys to Michael’s car and walking out the apartment without a second look back.

***

“So this is why you brought me out here?” Ryan said. He sounded amused as he watched Ray set up a few Roman Candles, twisting some of the fuses together in a complicated way that Michael had taught him. A firework launcher rested on the ground next to Ryan but he didn’t touch it.

“Yup.” Ray said, setting up the last one. He stood up and held out a lighter. “Ready?”

“Go for it.” Ryan urged. Ray lit the fuse and ran to sit next to Ryan, waiting with bated breath.

When the first firework went off, Ray felt his lungs stop. He kept his eyes on the sky as the Roman candles went off and leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows. He saw Ryan do the same and felt his chest lighten that he got to share this feeling.

Before the last candle finished, Ray sat up properly and picked up the firework launcher.

Ray aimed into the sky just in front of them and pulled the trigger. He smiled at the small noise of awe Ryan made.

“Do you want a go?” Ray asked, reloading the launcher. He held it out towards Ryan and saw him hesitantly reach out.

Ray felt himself smile when he saw Ryan shoot the firework. Everything about his body language screamed joy and Ray never felt a stronger desire to be able to see someone’s face than he did in that moment. He wondered if Ryan’s face was more full of joy or awe.

Had he ever seen fireworks? Or had he just never shot a fireworks launcher before? At some point, Ryan had learned to shoot a gun (and shoot it _well_ ), so was he just not well verse in explosives?

Ray loaded another firework and handed the launcher back to Ryan, watching the man fire it with an emotion in his chest that he hadn’t felt since he was a lonely teenager. He fell backwards so he was lying flat on the ground, using his hands behind his head as a cushion. In his peripherals, Ray saw Ryan doing the same, both of them just staring into the sky.

“Hey Rye?” Ray asked, turning his head to look at Ryan. He wondered when he felt comfortable enough with the other man to start using personal nicknames beyond skull jokes.

“Yeah?”

“Do you still have all your memories?” Ray asked, frowning slightly.

“I never died, Ray. I never lost my memories.” Ryan admitted. He sounded almost sad.

“So you’ve been like this ever since we died?”

“I’ve just been waiting to save you guys ever since you died,” Ryan sounded so sincere that Ray felt his heart ache. He felt sorry for being gone for so long.

He let his instinct take over and Ray reached out towards Ryan. He felt his hand wrap around Ryan’s arm and suddenly a memory flashed in front of his eyes.

Ray was sat in a large, practically empty room with elaborate stained glass windows on either side of him. A church. A familiar church. He must have been in his own kingdom; there was no way he could forget the age-old depictions of the various Lords.

He saw himself as he sat in one of the front pews, clutching his cross pendant tightly in his hand and pressing the cold metal to his lips gently. The atmosphere was calm but the tension felt suffocating. The Ray in the memory barely looked up as someone else walked in, silently sitting down next to him.

“You’re scared.”

“I’m in my right mind then.” Ray replied. “Two of my friends have died, Ryan. A third is on his deathbed. But we’re still fighting, Ryan.”

“No more have to die.” Ryan said calmly.

“People always have to die.” Ray corrected. He sounded so _tired_. “I just wished they didn’t have to leave us.” That last part sounded like he was talking to himself.

“How many loved ones have you lost?” Ryan asked, his expression a mix between sorrow and curiosity.

“Too many.” Ray said. He sighed and finally looked at Ryan. “I don’t want to lose any more.”

“You won’t have to if we win this war today.” Ryan promised.

“We’ll never win this war, Ryan. Wars are never won. Only finished.” Ray said solemnly. He rubbed a hand over his face, dropping the cross pendant so it hung over his lap. It took him a moment but he turned to look at Ryan. “Do you want to pray with me?”

“No Lord can help us now.” Ryan said, more to himself than to Ray.

“Well, maybe he can give me a few words of encouragement.” Ray said. They were silent for a while before Ray spoke up again. “I know you don’t think it will do any good, but _I_  know it will keep you safe. So please, humour me.” He said, pulling the silver chain off from around his neck and holding it out to Ryan.

He could see the hesitation on Ryan’s face but he saw him reach out and take it nonetheless, pulling the chain over his own head and letting it hang on his chest comfortably.

“Thank you, Ray.” Ryan said. The look in his eye was so honest, Ray couldn’t look at him anymore. He dropped his gaze to the floor.

“No problem.” And Ryan smiled at him. It was only a little smile, but it was the brightest thing in that dim church.

Ray blinked and the memory was gone. He focused on the smoke mask that obscured Ryan’s face from them and wondered if he was still looking at him with those blue, _blue_  eyes.

“What did you just remember?” Ryan asked. Ray thought for a second that he could almost _see_  Ryan’s curiosity through the smoke.

“Why I never had a watcher.”

Ryan was quiet for a moment and a small movement caught Ray’s attention. He watched as Ryan lifted his hand and pulled off his glove. Ray could only stare in awe at the hand. The _actual_  hand. Like, skin and flesh and everything!

Ray felt himself reach out and his fingers hovered _just_  in front of the skin. Suddenly, he felt nervous. There were only a few millimetres between his hand and Ryan’s. Ryan must have sensed his indecision. He moved his hand closer and Ray held in any noise of surprise he wanted to make.

He didn’t know why it was so surprising that Ryan’s skin was _warm_. It was warm and it was _alive_.

“So, can you eat yet?” Ray asked, looking at Ryan while his fingers rested against Ryan’s palm. For some reason, Ryan laughed at that: a _real_  laugh, full of pure happiness.

“Don’t think so, why?”

“Because I’m _really_  craving a milkshake right now.”

“Milkshake’s aren’t food.”

“Then I want tacos. Let’s go get tacos.” Ray said, finally pulling his hand away and draping it over his stomach.

“You’re buying.” Ryan said, hoisting himself to his feet and extending his still ungloved hand towards Ray. Ray huffed but he reached out and took Ryan’s hand, swallowing down the noise of surprise again.

“You’re no fun.” Ray complained in jest, picking up the fallen firework launcher that was still on the ground beside where Ryan was.

Ryan laughed again and Ray wondered, after everything, how he could still have a laugh with that much life in it.

***

For once in his sorry life, Ray was glad for insomnia.

It wasn’t unusual for Ray to be the only one up in the middle of the night (even now that Ryan had taken to sleeping on the sofa - even though they _did_  have a spare room). What _was_  unusual was the sound of the door opening at two in the morning.

Ray looked up from where he was sat, cross-legged on his bed playing on his new 3DS. He knew that all of the others were asleep, so the only kind of person who would be entering the apartment wasn’t the nice kind. (The door wasn’t being broken, but Ray knew just how many locks were on that door.)

Even after Ray had seen just how protected the apartment was, he had taken to keeping a gun by his bed. Mostly it was just an old habit, but he always had a bad feeling in his gut so he kept it close.

For once, paranoia paid off.

Ray pulled the gun out of its hiding place and closed his 3DS. As slowly as he could, Ray crept off the bed and tucked himself into the darkest corner furthest from the door.

The sounds of bedroom doors opening chilled Ray to his bones and just put him even more on edge. He cocked the gun and aimed it straight at the door. Gun safety could get fucked as he kept his finger on the trigger.

Ray heard brief struggles in the rooms around him and felt a thin sheen of sweat form on the back of his neck. He would never admit to his fear, but there was something torturous about hearing his friends making a brief struggle before going quiet.

He didn’t think they were being murdered: there weren’t any gunshots or hushed conversations as they moved between rooms. Most likely situation was that they were being knocked out to be kidnapped.

Ray ever so slowly pushed himself up using the wall so he was stood, still aiming at the door. Footsteps stopped outside Ray’s door and he felt his heart speed up in his chest. The chain around his neck suddenly felt so cold it almost burnt and he couldn’t breathe as the door was slowly pushed open.

Ray knew as soon as the person put a step around his door that it wasn’t a friendly (even if it was B-Team or someone trusted like that, they would have called out to him). Literally the _second_ Ray had something to aim at, he unloaded an entire clip into the person’s head.

The silence in its wake was deafening. (Or was that from the gun?)

Ray felt his heart drop when the person laughed. It wasn’t a Ryan laugh, or a Michael laugh. This was a _mean_  laugh.

“What the fuck are you?!” Ray demanded, the empty gun still aimed at the person, who by all rules of the universe, should be a puddle on the floor.

“Come on, Brownman, you don’t recognise me?” The person asked, stepping into a patch of light from Ray’s window. Ray’s throat closed up and he couldn’t drag air into his lungs.

“ _Fuck you_ , Dragonface. What did you do to my friend?” Ray continued, his aim not wavering even if he had nothing to shoot.

“Calm down Ray, they’re not dead.” Dragonface promised, walking up to him slowly. Ray kept the gun up out of instinct at that point. Dragonface lifted his hand and put it to Ray’s forehead. “Sleep now, Rose King.”

Ray felt his mind cloud over and heard the gun hit the floor before he realised he dropped it. His limbs went heavy and Ray felt himself be caught just before he hit the ground.

All his senses dulled and Ray could only _pray_  that his friends were okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one more chapter....
> 
> who's guessed the story pattern yet?
> 
> edit:  
> holy crap this reached 1000 hits :0!!


	6. R.H - The Vagabond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy crap, I can't believe I actually made it to the end of this
> 
> before you read; some warnings for attempted suicide, drug use and mild dubcon
> 
> and to everyone who commented or left a kudos or just read this and kept up with this, thank you :D You're all amazing and I can't believe some of the things people have said about this fic and my writing :')

_Ryan looked around the field. He was kneeling. His bare knees felt muddy from the ground and the rest of his skin felt sticky from the blood that had been spilled. That he had spilled._

_Bodies lay everywhere around him. Each body spilled blood onto the ground from all kinds of cuts and split skin; the smell alone would have been enough to make any average man faint or throw up. But Ryan was brought up with the smell of blood and fermenting bodies. He recognised the smell of rigor mortis before he recognised the smell of flowers._

_Ryan gazed down at the crown in his hands. It had been his father’s, before that his grandfather’s, and before that his great-grandfather’s. It was solid gold, with patterns of spells and the words of small charms for luck and victory. Magic was an unspoken agreement in Ryan’s kingdom. It was okay to use magic, as long as it wasn’t going to out-right cause a person’s death. Some more malicious people had tried to use magic to force people to hand over money, property, their bodies, against their will, until Ryan’s great-grandfather put a spell over his kingdom that forbade that. It was the thing that put Ryan’s father on the throne._

_Ryan brushed his thumb over one particular spell. A spell of good-fortune. Now Ryan knew it was_ bullshit _._

_The crown hit the ground with a dull thud and Ryan ran his hands down his face, not bothered by the blood that he had smeared down his face. If he could see it, maybe he would have thought about the similarities between the blood streaks and Mogar’s war paint._

_“You did well, James.”_

_Ryan’s head whipped around but fell on a man standing in front of him. The ground around him no longer smelt of gore and Ryan stood in surprise. As far as he could see, the ground was covered in flowers. Soft flowers. Every kind ranging from daisies to marigolds to violets._

_“Am I dead?” Ryan asked, looking at the man with a very open expression._

_“Not yet.” The man said._

_“Then why are you here, Lord Hullum?” Ryan asked._

_“You’ve lost a lot of people.” Lord Hullum said. He sat down on the ground in front of Ryan and picked up the crown. “A lot of people you love, as well. You managed to protect your and your friend’s kingdoms, at least for a while. You helped support all your allies kingdoms in their trying times. And now you’ve earned your rest.”_

_“So am I dead?” Ryan said._

_“Not if I have any say in this.” Lord Hullum said._

_“What do you mean?”_

_Lord Hullum didn’t respond, but he did place Ryan’s crown back on the king’s head. Ryan felt the familiar weight with an unfamiliar sensation that accompanied it. It felt like someone had poured viscous, cold water over Ryan’s head. Lord Hullum stood back up and extended a hand towards Ryan, helping him to his feet._

_“You deserved better than a simple death.” Lord Hullum said._

_Ryan felt the cold sensation flip so it burned him in his entirety. His legs couldn’t support him anymore. His hands shot out to stop him from hitting the ground too heavily and Ryan watched in horror as he saw thick tendrils snake down his arms, wrapping him,_ suffocating _him. He couldn’t stop the small scream as he felt the tendrils enclosing his head._

_Ryan thought that he was going to die; that he was given a glimpse at something more but then had it snatched away from him. It wouldn’t have been the first time that had happened._

_Just as suddenly as it happened, the burning stopped._

_Ryan took a few heavy breaths to calm himself down before he got to his feet. He stared at Lord Hullum, wondering if he had just been cursed. Lord Hullum just looked back at him, his expression worryingly neutral._

_“What did you just do?” Ryan demanded. He resisted the urge to reach out and throttle the Lord._

_“I gave you a second chance.” Lord Hullum said. “One day, you’ll meet your friends again, and you’ll have another chance to save them. Don’t screw it up.”_

_“So what do I do now?” Ryan asked, reaching to stop Lord Hullum as he made to walk away._

_“There are others like you. Find them.” Lord Hullum said. “In this state, nothing can hurt you, so you can do whatever you want.”_

_Ryan watched as Lord Hullum walked out of his line of sight. He expected the world around him to return to it’s blood and gore, but the flowers stayed. He could only smell the pollen instead of death._

_Was this what his life was going to be like forever now?_

_Was he even human anymore?_

_Ryan looked down at his hands and blanched at the darkness that covered him now. He felt the same as he did, but that meant very little now. He was no stranger to magic, so Ryan knew that if he_ was _, he wasn’t cursed by conventional methods._

 _Then again, Ryan knew that meeting one of the Lords and being_ changed _by them… Well, Ryan had no idea what that meant._

***

Ryan knew there was something wrong before he even woke up. It was far too quiet when he finally woke up.

He wasn’t sure if the gunshots he heard were real or if he had somehow made it up. But Ryan didn’t know _how_ he could have made it up when this new version of sleep equated to nothing more than a gap in his consciousness. No dreams, no memories, _nothing_ but darkness.

So yeah, Ryan was suspicious when he finally woke up.

He got to his feet and the first thing he noticed was the door. It wasn’t broken, it was just _slightly_ ajar. Like someone didn’t _quite_ close the door properly on the way in last night.

But Ryan knew just how fiercely protective Geoff was of his Crew, and he could practically _sense_ just how much technology had been installed in the apartment to keep all of them safe. It was damn near impossible that _any_ of the Crew had simply _forgot_ to close the door last night. It was even more impossible that Geoff would have gone anywhere near his bed last night without double, _triple_ checking all the locks and the security cameras. There was no way Geoff would have _ever_ let anything get near his Crew when they were defenseless, especially with the kind of people they called their enemy.

So, first there was the silence, then there was the slightly open door. Yep, something was _not good_.

Ryan started walking towards where the bedrooms were. If there was some kind of commotion, why didn’t he wake up?

Only one of the doors was still open and Ryan made a beeline for it. Ray’s room. He pushed the door open with his finger tips and stood on the threshold as it swung open under his touch.

The room inside was just as much of a mess as it always had been and Ray was asleep on his bed, curled up on his side.

That was the final alarm bell.

From what it looked like, Ray had been asleep for a while. Ray never slept more than a couple hours at a time.

Ryan was at Ray’s side before he knew what was going on. His hands cupped Ray’s head, turning it to face him properly. He was unresponsive. His breathing was slow and almost laboured, barely moving his chest at all.

To anyone else, Ray might as well have been dead.

Ryan ripped off the glove on one of his hands, and ever so gently placed it on Ray’s cheek. If he found out what happened to Ray, he’d probably be able to find out what happened to the rest of them.

***

When Ray woke up, it was slow, and he knew straight away that he wasn’t actually awake. More _aware_ ; but still not awake.

He was sat up in a chair with a table in front of him. It barely took a few second for Ray’s eyes to land on what was _on_ the table.

There was a syringe. A syringe with a bottle next to it.

Ray knew without even moving what was in that bottle.

He felt an itch begin to spread down his arms and near his ankle. the same kind of itch that drove Ray _insane_. That nearly _killed_ him.

He wanted so _badly_ to reach forwards, take the syringe, soothe the itch.

But he was clean. Ray had been clean for _so long_. Whenever Ray even _thought_ of going out, finding some drug dealer and sinking back down, all he had to do was remember waking up to Michael’s tear-stained face, telling him how he nearly _died_. Telling him that he wanted him to quit the drugs, with the underlying worry and protectiveness that Ray always thought of when he thought of Michael.

Ray felt a hand around his wrist. He felt almost proud of himself when he realised that the hand wasn’t to stop himself from reaching out. Ray looked up and saw Ryan looking down at him. It was the old Ryan. The _king_ Ryan. No smoke mask, no gloves, no leather.

“Come on,” Ryan said. His voice sounded weird: familiar but strange. “Just a taste won’t hurt.”

“Ryan, what are you doing? I’m clean.” Ray demanded, pulling his arm out of Ryan’s grip. He stood up out of the chair, almost kicking it back in his rush to stand.

“Ray, I _know_ you.” The way Ryan said it made it sound like there were a million implications. “You want it so badly.”

Ryan took a step into Ray’s space and Ray felt the heat of his body. The actual _heat_ a live body would have.

“You can already feel the itch, can’t you?” Ryan asked. His hands ghosted over Ray’s body, not _quite_ touching. “One taste won’t hurt. Just one little go. Just enough for a buzz.”

“Stop it!” Ray shouted. His words were starting to get to him. It was so tempting.

“Michael doesn’t have to know. It’s not like he doesn’t have any secrets.” Ryan said, leaning in so close he put his mouth next to Ray’s ear.

“I said stop Ryan!” Ray shouted, physically pulling himself away. He stumbled over the chair and fell to the ground, backing up a few more paces with weird scuttling movements.

Ryan crouched in front of him, shifting so he was kneeling over Ray’s legs. Any closer and he would be straddling him. Oh wait, Ryan was now straddling him. _Fucking_ great.

“Just a little bit won’t hurt, Ray.” Ryan said. Suddenly he had the needle in his hand and Ray felt his resolve weakening.

But some big part of Ray kept just shouting ‘ _FUCK THAT_ ’. Ray might have still been young, be he was old enough to know when something was a fucking trick.

Weird, fever dream or not, something didn’t feel right.

Ray knocked the syringe out of Ryan’s hand, watching it break on the floor. He looked back to Ryan and thought he saw him flicker for a second.

“So drugs don’t Tempt you any more. So what _does_?” Ryan mused. Ray saw Ryan shift closer and could practically feel Ryan’s breath on his skin. Ryan stopped and his eyes raked over Ray’s face before clearing in understanding. “ _Oh_. So that’s what can tempt you these days.”

Ryan gently pushed Ray backwards until he lay back on the floor with Ryan caging him in with his arms. Ray hated how his breath sped up.

“You used to be so much _easier_ to Tempt.” Ryan commented, running his hands down Ray’s chest until they settled on his hips. “A pretty face and a lot of drugs and you were _gone_. Give you a syringe of the good stuff and you were _mine_. Now you’re all righteous and sober and _clean_ , but now you kill people again.” Ryan’s voice sounded like it was glitching; switching between the voice Ray knew and another voice that sounded sinister and hateful, but… _young_?

“I’m protecting my Crew.” Ray protested, hating how his body arched under Ryan’s touch without his control. Hating and _loving_ how Ryan’s hands travelling all over his body felt.

“Is that what you call it now?” Ryan asked, a low chuckle making Ray’s body react in a way that wasn’t PG in any sense of the word. “Before, it was protecting your neighbourhood. Then it was protecting your best friend. And now it’s protecting your Crew. You’re volatile, Ray. I _like_ that.”

Ryan’s hands travelled to his zip and Ray couldn’t find it in him to protest. Not when he _wanted_ this attention. He wanted Ryan’s hands all over his body, to feel his heat and to _know_ what he was missing out on in his past life.

Ray helped Ryan wiggle him out of his shorts and he pulled off Ryan’s shirt. It was getting harder and harder to think clearly. Like something was fuzzing up his thoughts until all he could think of was Ryan’s hands pulling off his shirt, Ryan’s hands on his thighs, Ryan’s lips on his neck, Ryan’s skin on his, _Ryan_.

“You’re going to be _mine_ , Ray.” Ryan murmured, his mouth barely moving from Ray’s collarbone as his hands slipped under his boxers. His voice sounded weird again, like an audio glitch. “Just give in to the Temptation. Stay here with me. Don’t go back.”

“Where am I?” Ray asked, well, more gasped out. His lungs were heaving to bring air into his lungs.

“Does it matter? You’re with me?” Ryan said. “One more little thing you have to do and we’ll be together in here forever.” He made it sound like a reward.

“What?” Ray gasped out, his eyes almost closed, but not quite.

“ _Promise me you’ll stay here_. Forever.”

Suddenly, Ray had a bad feeling in his gut. Like something wasn’t adding up. The same feeling he got when he knew a job was about to go south.  

Ray pushed Ryan off, crawling backwards until he felt a wall on his back. He was naked and Ray could only stare at Ryan with wide-eyes.

“You’re not Ryan.” Was all Ray could say.

“Of course I am.” Ryan said, standing up and walking towards Ray. Ray stood up, his arm extended towards Ryan as if he was holding a gun. The moment he made that gesture, Ray suddenly remembered how he got there.

“This isn’t real. _You’re_ not real.” Ray repeated, glaring at ‘ _Ryan_ ’. “You’re some fucked up thing Dragonface did to me. None of this is real.”

“How you feel is real.” ‘Ryan’ pointed out, pulling Ray back to him by his thighs. Ryan’s hands slipped underneath Ray’s boxers but Ray didn’t allow himself to feel any pleasure from the contact and pushed Ryan away again.

“You’re wrong.” Ray spat, glaring at the fake Ryan. It was a stand off now.

“No I’m not, and you know it, Ray.” Ryan sounded dangerous and Ray forced himself to mask his emotions.

“So what?” Ray just shrugged. “I’m not falling for your sick game. Go fuck yourself.”

Ray’s gaze felt pulled towards the back corner of the room and he saw a figure there, watching the scene. He felt the strangest need to cover himself up out of embarrassment when he finally registered the smoke-skull mask directed at him.

“You heard Ray, Kerry.” The real Ryan said. He sounded real and solid and _right_. “You can’t Tempt him.”

The world dissolved around Ray and he felt his lungs kick into action, shocking him back to life.

***

Ray sat bolt upright, nearly headbutting Ryan, gasping heavily like he’d just nearly drowned. Ryan rubbed gentle circles on his back to calm him down.

It took a moment but Ray looked at him, thankful and apologetic.

“Sorry. For everything you had to see.” Ray said. He didn’t question how Ryan knew what had happened in his head.

“Hey, I’m just proud of you that you didn’t give in to him.” Ryan admitted, helping Ray get to his feet.

“Where are the others? I don’t know what happened to them.” Ray said, looking up at Ryan as if he had the answers.

“Your door was the only one open. I thought if anything happened, it would be more obvious with you.” Ryan admitted, already leaving Ray’s room and heading across the hall to Jack and Geoff’s shared room.

He had to force the door open this time and he saw Jack and Geoff lying together, exactly like Ray. Chests barely moving, unresponsive.

“They won’t be able to wake up on their own.” Ryan said over his shoulder to Ray, who was stood in the doorway. Ryan only just noticed he was just in his sleepwear and he looked strangely vulnerable.

“Are they dead?” Ray asked, looking at Jack and Geoff with a neutral expression on his face. Well, it was meant to be neutral, but Ryan knew Ray was worried.

“Not yet. If I can’t get to them in time, they might be.” Ryan said, reaching his ungloved hand towards Jack’s cheek. Out of the two of them, Jack seemed to have the most natural, _subconscious_ connection to Ryan, and that made her dangerous to Kerry.

Ryan felt Ray’s eyes on him as he made contact with Jack’s skin.

***

Jack woke up slowly and looked around wearily. She was lying in a bed that wasn’t her own, in an apartment that she’d only ever seen in magazines and could only ever hope to step into.

The room around her was lavish and luxurious. Silk sheets, polished wood furniture. Everything an A-list celebrity would expect in their own home. Jack sat up slowly and she could see a sliver of what looked like an expensive bathroom.

Jack tip toed over to the door and pushed it open. The bathroom had a tub that looked like it could fit a whole party of people in. Everything was polished and had solid gold accents. The air was _thick_ with wealth.

She caught sight of herself in a large mirror with lightbulbs around the edge like in all the old movies. (What was that doing in a bathroom?) At some point, she had been dressed in a silk nightgown that was a pale shade of turquoise, a similar shade to her Hawaiian shirts. Her hair was less frizzy than it normally was, but it looked a bit _too_ sheer to be natural. Diamond earrings caught the light and Jack didn’t want to think how much they should have cost.

She hesitantly reached up and touched the earrings, checking that this was a real reality around her. The diamonds were cold under her touch and the nightgown was cool against her skin.  It felt perfect, but just a bit _too_ idyllic.

Someone else appeared in the mirror and Jack’s gaze flickered up to see Geoff smiling at her. He was dressed in a designer suit that probably cost more than their entire criminal empire was worth.

Geoff took a walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He pressed a light, gentle kiss to her bare shoulder and nuzzled his face into her neck.

“You’re up early.” Geoff said, his voice a bit muffled.

“Where are we?” Jack asked, looking around the reflection at the fancy bathroom. Something in her head was telling her this was what normal, but another voice was telling her that something was _wrong_. And right now, the first voice was louder. _Just_.

“Home.” Geoff replied simply, lifting his head so he could look at Jack in the mirror. “You always wanted a home like this.”

“Where’s Gavin?” Jack asked. The more she thought about it, the more she felt something was off.

“He’s in England with Dan, remember? They’re coming back in a month.” Geoff replied. He gently spun Jack around so they were facing each other. “Is everything alright? You look a little pale.” Geoff reached to put his hand on Jack’s forehead but Jack reacted violently and practically jumped backwards. Away from Geoff. There was something bad about that gesture.

“Don’t do that.” Jack said quietly.

“If you’re not feeling well, maybe we shouldn’t go to your parent’s house for lunch.” Geoff said. There had never been a time when Jack had felt her heart clench more in her life than in that moment.

“Where the fuck am I? Because my parents are dead as dicks and you’re not my Geoff.” Jack demanded, backing towards the door. The look on Geoff’s face was pained and Jack had a split second of doubt.

“Jack, calm down. I didn’t mean to freak you out.” Geoff said. “Did you have a nightmare or something?”

“I- “ Jack stuttered, stepping backwards unconsciously. “I don’t know.”

“Go back to bed, I’ll make you some breakfast.” Geoff said, reaching out towards Jack. “You stay here, I’ll take care of you.”  

 _'Stay here_ ’...

Why did that phrase make Jack’s blood turn to ice?

“I don’t want to stay.” Jack said, stubborn and like a little child.

“Jackie, come on, don’t be like this.” Geoff put his hand out towards Jack in a calming way as he moved forwards.

“No. Don’t come any closer. You’re not Geoff. He knows that I hate being called Jackie.” Jack said, slowly circling Geoff so she was closer to the door. “I’m leaving.”

“There’s no way out.” Geoff said. His voice sounded strange and Jack immediately felt the warning bells go off in her mind. She turned tail and ran out of the bathroom, out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

She barely gave herself any time to take in the luxury of the kitchen (it really was beautiful - something that Geoff would have loved to cook in) before she was rummaging in the draws for any kind of weapon. A knife block rested on the counter and Jack unsheathed the biggest knife there.

A hand gripped her shoulder and Jack whipped round, brandishing the knife. Geoff was stood behind her, putting his hands up in a show of defence. Jack kept her grip tight on the knife and put some space between them.

“ _Jack,_ ” Geoff’s voice was soft and suddenly Jack felt doubt. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going to leave Geoff.” Jack said, adjusting her grip on the knife. “And when I get back to him, I won’t.”

A third figure stepped into Jack’s peripherals and she didn’t dare turn her head. But the voice in her head telling her that everything was okay and normal suddenly went silent and Geoff snarled at her. (One more thing wrong with this scenario - Geoff could glare or snap or laugh or spit, but he would never _snarl_ unless it was part of a joke).

“This is a mistake.” Geoff spat, glaring at her now, but not daring to step closer. He had enough sense to know Jack would most certainly use that knife if she had to.

“Ryan, get me out of here.” Jack said, taking a leap of faith and stepping towards the figure in her peripherals.

The figure gently touched her shoulder and Jack finally turned to look at her old friend.

“You heard her.” Ryan said, looking at the Geoff imposter.  

“She can’t leave.” ‘ _Geoff_ ’ tried to reach for Jack but Ryan stepped in front of her. “If she leaves, the others will die.”

“Yeah, and I should believe you why?” Jack demanded.

“Because they’re all like you.” ‘ _Geoff_ ’ replied. “Trapped in their own heads. And guess who holds their lives? _He_ does. And right now, your poor Geoff is very close to having his plug pulled.”  

“Ryan, I said get me out of here.” Jack repeated.

“You heard the lady.” Ryan repeated. “She’s not Tempted.”

No matter what this Geoff _thought_ she wanted, Jack wouldn’t trade the mismatched furniture and the pictures up on the wall that sometimes hung a bit crooked and the random cans of red bull. This life she woke up in was nothing like she _wanted_. She wanted _safety_ and _security_ for her family. Jack just thought that money was the thing that made that possible.

The world around Jack dissolved and she felt as if she was suddenly being submerged under water.

***

Ryan helped Jack into a sitting position as she took control of her breathing. As soon as he saw she was awake, Ray was immediately by her side.

“Jack? Jack, are you okay?” Ray asked, putting an arm around Jack’s shoulders.

“Ray?” Jack coughed and focused on Ray. She pulled him into a proper hug and Ray was surprised for a moment. “ _Thank god you’re safe._ ” She muttered, mostly to herself.

“Jack, what happened?” Ray asked, pulling away and fixing her with a slightly nervous look. “What do you remember?”

“I just went to sleep and woke up… in _there_.” Jack admitted, looking between Ray and Ryan. She looked over at Geoff and Ryan felt his chest tighten at the look of simultaneous relief and fear. “Is he…?”

“Not for long.” Ryan said, walking around to the other side of the bed and standing beside Geoff. He paused and looked back up at Jack. “I have a feeling that he’s going to be harder to wake up. I need your help, Jack.”

“What can I do?” Jack asked. Ryan made a small ‘ _come here_ ’ gesture and Jack scooted over on the bed. He pulled off his other glove and tucked it into his pocket.

“Give me your hand.” Ryan held out his hand and Jack put her hand in his without a second thought. “Now, Jack, this might be scary. We have to go back into that world. You don’t have to if you don’t want to-”

“I want to.” Jack interrupted. “I need to help Geoff. You heard what that thing said.”

Ryan felt a sadness take a stab at him, but he knew what that look in Jack’s eye meant. He steeled his nerves and nodded.

“Alright. Be ready.” Ryan warned, putting his ungloved hand on Geoff’s forehead. “I don’t know what we’ll see in there.”

***

Geoff stood in front of a table with a single, loaded gun on it. He could see Jack and Gavin sat in chairs opposite him, with shadowed figures pressing two more loaded guns to their heads.

He didn’t remember when, but tears were running down Geoff’s face. He knew every little action he made could _ruin_ his life. One bad word and half of his family would die.

“Either you die, or _they_ die.” One of the shadowed figures said. “Do it, Geoff. Or do you not give a shit about your girlfriend and the boy you took in?”

“ _Please_ ,” Geoff _almost_ begged. “Don’t do this.”

In any other situation, any other time, Geoff would have kept a straight face. He would never have broken. But something about this was different. He had no idea why, but it felt _real_. Like there was a very real chance he would lose either Jack or Gavin or both.

“It’s your choice, Ramsey.” The shadowed figure said. The voice was harsh and cold.

Geoff reached forwards. He picked up the gun in front of him. The metal felt cold in his hand and the nozzle felt even colder when he pressed it to the underneath of his chin.

Gavin cried out something but the shadowed figure silenced him. Jack wasn’t focused on either of them. She was staring off into the distance, her face blank. like a robot or some kind of mannequin.

Michael and Ray were both lying on the ground, bullet holes between their eyes and their blood pooling on the ground. He hadn’t been smart enough, fast enough- anything _enough_ to save them.

Geoff cocked the gun. He shut his eyes.

“I love you, Jack.” Geoff said. “You were the best friend I’ve ever had. I’m so glad you stopped me from running away when I was thirteen and stupid. Gavin; you’re a dumbass, but I’ve never regretted Jack finding you or taking you in or giving you a home. Yeah, sometimes you were a fuck-up, but you were _our_ fuck-up. And I wouldn’t take that back for the world.”

Geoff screwed his eyes shut even tighter and took a few shaky breaths. Of all the ways he thought he would die, _this_ never cropped up.  

A hand gently pushed the gun away from his chin and Geoff slowly opened his eyes. Jack was standing beside him, gently prising the gun out of his grip. She put the safety back on and placed it on the table, out of his reach.

Geoff knew that somehow, _this_ was _his_ Jack. But she wasn’t as solid as the rest of the world Geoff was in. No… The other way around…

Jack was the most real thing in the room.

“This isn’t real.” Jack promised. “This is something that was made up to hurt you. It’s in your head.”

“Show me this isn’t real.” Geoff demanded in a soft voice. “Promise me this is in my head because this sure as hell doesn’t feel like it, Jack.”

“Geoff, look at me.” Jack reached out and took Geoff’s face in her hands. She crouched down so they were eye level. Geoff looked her in the eye and kept his gaze as steady as he could.

“Tell me this isn’t real.” Geoff begged. He grabbed her arms like she was the last lifeline he had.

“Look at me, Geoff. How much do you trust me?” Jack asked.

“I’ve never trusted anyone more.”

“Do you trust me not to lie to you?” Jack asked again, her voice steady.

“Of course.”

“Then listen to what I’m telling you.” Jack said. “I was trapped in my own head as well. He put me in this lavish apartment: gorgeous kitchen, bathroom big enough for ten people, the best money could buy. You were there, as well. But you weren’t _you_. You called me Jackie.”

“I wouldn’t-”

“I know, Geoff.” Jack looked at him sadly. “And that’s how I knew it wasn’t you. I grabbed a knife but _that_ Geoff tried to force me to stay. Told me if I left everyone else would die. So believe me when I tell you that whatever you think you know in this world, they’re _lying_ to you.”

“Alright.” Geoff said, nodding. Jack wiped the tears off his face tenderly. “I believe you, Jack. I believe you. How do I leave?”

Jack looked over her shoulder and Geoff saw Ryan standing in the corner, watching the scene. He looked back at Jack and nodded in acknowledgement. She turned back to Geoff and gently helped him to his feet, never breaking contact.

Jack kissed him gently, tenderly and Geoff was glad he was still holding onto her when he felt the world cut to black.

***

Geoff woke up with a start and the first thing he focused on was Ryan’s hand above his head and Jack pressed against him, looking down at him worriedly. He looked at Jack and her face broke out in a grin.

Ryan sat back on the bed sheets. His strength was just beginning to waver, but he couldn’t fault just yet. He still had two more to save.

He watched with a small warm feeling in his chest as Geoff held onto Jack and Jack held onto Geoff even tighter. Ryan had seen himself what Kerry had tried to do to Geoff (well, what he tried to make Geoff do to himself). There was a small nugget of guilt in Ryan’s mind at the fact that he subjected Jack to that as well. He was fine with being the only one to see his friends be coerced or mind fucked, as long as there was something he could do about it. Ryan hated the fact that Jack had seen it as well.

“Hey Rye, you alright?” Ray asked. Ryan snapped out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Ryan promised. “Can you stay with them while I get Michael and Gavin?”

“Michael and Gavin are still...” Geoff asked, looking up at Ryan. Ryan knew that Geoff couldn’t bare to think about it.

“They are. And I’m going to get them out.” Ryan promised. He had never meant a promise more than he did in that moment.

Ryan didn’t waste another moment before he was leaving the master bedroom and almost breaking down Michael’s door. He didn’t mean to be that forceful, but Ryan was overly aware of how quickly time was passing.

Michael’s room was more disorganised than messy, but just enough to hinder Ryan as he made his way over to where Michael was asleep. He was the same as the others but his breathing seemed a bit more erratic than the rest of them.

“Is he okay?” Ray asked, appearing beside him. He was looking at Michael with such a genuine look of worry that Ryan wondered what was going through his head.  

“He’s going to be fine.” Ryan assured him. “I promised, didn’t I?” He wished he could have given Ray a reassuring smile.

Ryan reached out to touch Michael’s forehead but Ray grabbed his sleeve before he could.

“Ray, what is it?” Ryan asked, turning his head to look at him.

“Just-” Ray faltered. He let go of Ryan’s arm and curled his arms around himself. “Just hurry, okay?”

“I will. Promise.”

Ray barely looked reassured but he stepped back and let Ryan do his thing. Ryan turned back to Michael and touched Michael’s forehead.

***

Michael almost didn’t know something was wrong when he woke up. He looked around and saw he was in his own room, in the same apartment he fell asleep in. Or at least a very similar one.

There was a body in his bed beside him and Michael shifted so he could see who it was. He didn’t even need to see their face, really, before he knew who it was. He only had to see the wild hair and he knew.

But… They hadn’t slept in the same room. And Gavin wasn’t one to creep into his room unnoticed (the idiot would trip on air if he tried to be sneaky).

Michael quietly tiptoed out of the room and followed the noises he heard coming from the kitchen. He began to realise that the apartment was different to the one he fell asleep in. It was smaller, a bit more modest, but just as cosy.

Michael peered into the kitchen and saw Ray sat cross-legged on the counter, playing on his phone. Ray looked up and smiled at Michael.

He looked at ease and happy as he hopped off the counter and held out a mug of coffee.

“Dude, we _need_ to soundproof your room.” Ray teased, giving Michael a knowing look. Even though Michael knew in the back of his brain that he had no reason to be, Michael felt embarrassment creep up on him. Not a bad kind of embarrassment; the kind after you’d just been caught with someone you shouldn’t have been. (He guessed that was exactly what might have happened).

“We’ll do your room next so you and Ryan don’t keep us awake at night.” Michael felt the retort form in his mind and he said it without really understanding _why_ he said what he did. Ray still laughed at what Michael said and Michael knew that it was Ray’s _real_ laugh: short bursts with short breaths between them which seemed to really stop all at once.

“Whatever you say, dude.” Ray leaned over and gently punched Michael’s arm and Michael laughed with Ray.

It felt nice to laugh with Ray, it always did. Even when they first shared an apartment together and they would swap stories while playing games together or when Michael would have a beer and they would just joke around. He remembered how they would always cook a bit more for the other to have if they were working different times and missed each other.

Michael wondered when he became nostalgic for his friend.

A figure appeared in Michael’s peripherals and both Ray and Michael turned their heads to look at them. Ryan. What was he doing there?

Ray’s face brightened and he walked over to where Ryan stood. Ray put his arm around Ryan but Ryan’s gaze was directed towards Michael. He still had his smoke helmet but Michael could almost _see_ Ryan’s gaze on him.

“This isn’t real, Michael.” Ryan said, his voice urgent and _real_.

“Michael, don’t listen to him.” Ray said, drawing Michael’s attention. “Ryan’s just lying. Come on, you’re happy here, aren’t you?”

“Michael, seriously,” Ray said, sounding a bit more urgent. “Ryan is _lying_ to you.”

“Ryan doesn’t lie.” Michael felt himself take a few steps backwards.

“And you think I do?” Ray sounded hurt but Michael was suspicious now.

“ _Yes_.” Michael snapped. “You lied about your fucking drug problem for _months_ motherfucker! But Ryan hasn’t lied to us yet!”

“Michael, this is all in your head.” Ryan promised here, breaking out of Ray’s grip and walking towards Michael. “Someone is doing this to _all_ of you: locking you inside your own heads and trying to keep you there - by any means necessary. They did this to the whole Crew, and I’ve got almost all of you out.”

“‘ _Almost’_? Who’s still…trapped?” Michael asked, frowning at Ryan. Ryan seemed to take a small breath.

“Gavin is.” Ryan said.

“Gavin’s wha’?” A familiar voice said, making all the heads turn to him. Gavin was stood in his boxers, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. His hair was all messed up like it always was and he leaned against the doorframe like he wasn’t awake enough to stand up on his own.

“Michael.” Ryan’s voice snapped Michael out of his thoughts and he whipped his head to meet Ryan’s gaze. “This isn’t Gavin. This is a made-up Gavin. You need to reject this perceived reality, Michael. Or you’ll be stuck here forever.”

“Micool? What’s going on, love?” Gavin asked, looking between Michael and Ryan with a frown on his face. He looked more vulnerable than he ever did and it gave Michael and uncomfortable pang of some emotion he barely ever let himself feel.

“Ryan, tell me something only Ryan would know.” Michael said. “Something only _we_ would know.”

“I know who Mogar is.” Ryan said, and Michael felt the air leave his lungs. He never spoke about Mogar,  _ever_. He barely told Ray.

“Okay,” Michael nodded, running his hands over his face. “How do I get out of here?”

He could feel Ryan’s relief and felt a hand on his shoulder.

“See? Michael’s not Tempted either.” Ryan said, out loud, and to no one in particular. “You’re _fucked_ , Kerry!”

Michael felt his vision go black and it felt like he just crashed into water.

***

Michael’s eyes flew open and his eyes focused on Ray looking down at him worriedly. Ray’s whole body seemed to relax when he saw Michael looked at him.

“Ray-” Michael pulled Ray towards him and pulled him into a hug. Ray wasted no time wrapping his arms around Michael in return and holding him close.

Ryan stood up and gave them a moment of privacy. There was years of friendship and fraternity between them and Ryan had no idea how deep it ran. But right then, he could only let them have their moment.

“Ray? Where’s Gav?” Michael asked, finally breaking away from Ray.

“Still in his room.” Ray said, moving to give Michael enough room to get out of his bed.

“Ryan, you can help him, right?” Michael asked, ripping the sheets off him and scrambling to his feet.

“Of course.” Ryan said, already making his way to the last Crew member’s room. He was barely at the door when the three of them froze. A shout that very obviously belonged to Geoff echoed throughout the apartment.

Ryan barely looked behind him as he sprinted towards Gavin’s room. The door was open and he saw Jack standing in the middle of the room. She was holding a limp Geoff in one arm and holding a gun out with the other. The gun was aimed at a figure that was sat on Gavin’s bed next to Gavin himself, who was unconscious and unnervingly still on his bed.

“How _fucking_ dare you!” Jack shouted, maybe unaware of Ryan’s presence in the room. Ryan walked up behind her and took Geoff out of her arms. He touched his forehead gently and Geoff gasped awake.

“Oh, Ryan…” The stranger on the bed said. Ryan felt his stomach drop but he gently passed Geoff back to Jack before he turned to the voice. He felt himself moving in front of Geoff and Jack in a protective way.

“I knew it.” Ryan said. “Why did you attack my friends, Kerry?”

“I don’t think knocking them out counts as attacking.” Kerry said, shrugging.

“Trapping them in an illusion _you_ created does.” Ryan snapped.

“What the fuck is going on?” Michael snapped, finally speaking up from somewhere behind Ryan.

“You haven’t told them about the prophecy, have you?” Kerry said, looking between the Crew.

“The six will rise to be like kings again after all the years/ and the old king's vengeance will be their freedom and their death./ They will find one another in new skins, but when the mind clears/ the new kings and queen will be united to mourn once again.” Ryan recited. “I already told them.”

“Exactly.” Kerry said. He didn’t move and one hand was worryingly close to Gavin’s unconscious body. “You knew the rules; they couldn’t know until the time was right.”

“Well _I_ decided that the time was right.” Ryan said, squaring himself up.

“Well it wasn’t, so I took matter into my own hands.” Kerry said.

“Fuck you, asshole!” Ray snapped.

“Yeah! And why the fuck are you on Gavin’s bed?!” Michael demanded.

“Jealous, bro?” Kerry teased, shutting Michael up pretty effectively. “I know at least half of you will be practically broken if anything happened to Gavvy here, so I thought I’d get to him early. Except, he messed up the plan and ran _straight_ into Jack here. I _almost_ had him as well.” That last sentence sounded almost wistful.

“Well, you didn’t,” Ryan said, not giving in to any of of Kerry’s bullshit. “And you still don’t.”

“Jokes on you, Ryan. There’s no way you’ll be able to wake Gavin up. And if Gavin’s comatose, then the prophecy will never come true, and _technically_ , I didn’t break our deal.”

“Yes you did, you-” Ryan began to protest, but Kerry cut him off.

“Said that if you kept them alive until the oldest was forty then I’d leave them alone.” Kerry finished. Ryan suddenly felt like a fool and betrayed by someone who had no loyalty to him.

“Wh-”

“I sent creatures after them, I sent them into car wrecks, I killed family members, I sent bad lovers to them, I got little Ray addicted to drugs.” Ryan glanced behind him and saw Ray’s look of shame which had no place on his features. “Literally the only reason any of them are still here is because at some point in all my plans, _you_ , Ryan, showed up and put yourself between them. This is the nicest thing I’ve ever done to them.”

“I’m going to save him.” Ryan said. His tone was so sure, so definite that he could feel the rest of the Crew’s trust like it was tangible. “And you can’t stop me.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to beat you to it.” Kerry said. He reached out and touched Gavin’s face with no hesitation.

And between blinks, Kerry vanished.

“ _Fuck_!” Ryan shouted, running and falling to his knees beside Gavin. Gavin’s breathing was so slow he almost missed it and Ryan quickly checked his pulse. Worryingly low.

“What the fuck was all that?” Geoff asked, standing just beside Ryan. Jack was still holding him up but both their eyes were fixed on Gavin’s practically lifeless form.

“I’m going to do something drastic.” Ryan announced, leaning back and stripping off his jacket, throwing it away from him. He felt strangely vulnerable in his short-sleeved t-shirt. “Everyone needs to touch my arm.”

“What the fuck?” Michael burst out, more confused than anything.

“I have a feeling that I’m not going to be enough to get Gavin out of his head.” Ryan said. “I’m going to need help.”

“I’m in.” Jack said, reaching out and putting her hand on Ryan’s forearm.

“Me too.” Geoff agreed, putting his hand beside Jack’s. His trust in Ryan made him feel more _human_ than he had in centuries.

“Let’s go get Gav.” Michael said, putting his hand on Ryan’s arm as well. Ryan looked at Ray and opened his hand to him. It was a simple gesture and he didn’t quite know why he did it. Ray glanced at the hand and back to Ryan.

Ray moved so he was close enough and very hesitantly put his hand in Ryan’s. Ryan very gently closed his hand around Ray’s and he turned back to Gavin.

Ryan barely took a breath before he put his hand on Gavin’s forehead gently.

***

Ryan was stood directly in front of Gavin and he felt a painful ache in his chest.

Gavin was chained; literally. The environment around them was dark and dank and cold, like a prison cell. Gavin was practically being held up by chains along his arms that looked painful. Heavy manacles were locked around Gavin’s wrists and ankles, anchoring him.

He looked unbruised and unhurt, but Gavin was barely conscious.

Hang on…

He was muttering something.

“...mum...dad…” Ryan managed to catch that and he had no time to react before he saw Geoff and Jack already walking towards Gavin. He wondered if they knew that Gavin was calling to them, or if they were just acting on instinct.  

“Wait-” Ryan said, but Ray put his hand on his arm, stopping him.

Geoff and Jack stopped a few feet in front of Gavin, silent and pensive.

“ _Your parents think you’re dead, Gavin_.” Kerry’s voice said, whispering throughout the room. “ _They never cared about you. They’re dead now anyway._ ”

“Gavin, don’t listen to him.” Geoff said gently, reaching out towards Gavin. His arm was stilled as if there was something stopping him.

“ _I killed your parents. You’re alone now. No one loved you._ ” Kerry continued, the whispers circling them, wrapping themselves around each person. “ _Jack only pitied you. Geoff never wanted you. No one loves you._ ”

“Gavin, he’s lying to you.” Jack said softly. She tried to reach out and touch Gavin’s cheek, but, like Geoff, something seemed to stop her and force her back.

“We’ve always loved you Gavin,” Geoff said. “You’re our little Gavvy.”

“We need you back. Gavin, don't do this to us.” Jack pleaded. She forced herself to step towards him but a figure materialised in front of her. Their arm swung out in an arc and Ryan was forced to watch as a sword sliced into Jack’s stomach.

Jack stumbled back and both Michael and Ray surged forwards, helping Geoff catch Jack before she fell. But Jack was fine. There was no cut, no blood, just the pain. Jack looked up at the figure in shock, her hand pressed to her stomach out of instinct.

Gavin’s face twisted in the pain that Jack probably felt but it smoothed out after a few seconds.

“If you want to get to him, you’ll have to fight for him.” The figure said, suddenly clearing up.

It looked like Kerry, but he was dressed in almost tribal gear that was reminiscent of the Mogar tribe. Kerry held two, plain and simple daggers in his hands and aimed at them as an open threat.

“Over here guys.” Ryan said. He waved his hand and a table materialised in front of him. All sorts of weapons were laid out on top of it, all sharpened and maintained.

Ray and Michael made it to the table first and they looked at the selection curiously.

Michael’s hand instinctively reached for a large sword that was heavy and cold to the touch. He lifted it up and Ryan watched as smoke swirled around him for a moment. It dissipated as quickly as it came and Michael seemed oblivious to it. But Ryan saw Mogar now. He saw the pelts and the tattoos and the belt. The only thing missing was the uncut red gemstone that should have rested around Mogar’s neck.  

Ray was a bit more hesitant but he took the silver rapier in his hand and ran his thumb over the small engraving of a rose. The smoke billowed around him and Ryan forced himself to look away when it cleared. He saw Ray in all his modest finery: the suit that showed status but not extravagant wealth; the subtle rose iconography that Ray adorned because it was his mother’s favourite flower.  He held the rapier in his gloved hands naturally.

Geoff had taken this short amount of time to check Jack was alright. It wasn’t until he was sure that there was no real damage, that they both walked over. It was strange for Ryan to watch as they walked together and reached for their weapons in sync.

They barely wasted a second before they both turned back around a stalked towards where Kerry stood defensively in front of Gavin.

Ryan watched as the smoke built up around them and vanished. He felt his breath hitch when he saw them. Geoff was wearing his armour as steadily and as naturally as he wore his own skin. It was polished and clean but still scuffed from previous battles. He brandished the bastardsword easily like it was his birthright. Something about his seemed to glow ethereally and Ryan knew that Geoff was the only one with that halo around him.

What surprised him was Jack. The last time he saw Jack as _King Jack_ , Jack had worn metal armour that was too big and looked uncomfortable. But now… Jack wore a long tunic and loose pants that looked like they were for casual wear, but chainmail and thick leather armour were strapped to her body over it. It seemed more _Jack_ than any other armour could have been. It was rustic and unconventional, but it worked and Jack walked as confidently in her leather armour as Geoff did in his metal. Jack held the smallsword as if she had _earned_ that right.

They both moved so they were in a fighting stance, both of them aiming at Kerry.

“Your move, fucktruck.” Geoff goaded, adjusting his grip the slightest bit on his sword.

Kerry’s grin was more tooth than humour as he lashed out at the both of them. They blocked and Ryan knew the fight had begun. It was a sight to behold. The way they worked together; knew each other so well that they could predict the other’s movements; had enough trust in the other to have their back.

“Tag in at any time, guys!” Jack shouted, furiously dodging a series of attacks aimed at her throat. Even though they couldn’t be physically damaged inside Gavin’s head, they didn’t want to test what could happen outside of it.

That seemed to be all the invitation Michael and Ray needed. As soon as they saw the opening, both of them took a swipe at Kerry.

Ryan made his way to Gavin and sank to his knees in front of him. He reached out and placed both his bare hands on either side of Gavin’s face.

“Gavin, you need to wake up.” Ryan said urgently. Gavin’s face twisted like he was fighting against something that was trying to keep him subdued. “I know you can hear me. And I like to think that you trust me. So _please_ , Gavin, listen to me. Your parents loved you. They always had. And now you have another family that loves you just as much. So you need to _wake up_.”

He wasn’t sure if it was his tone or if Kerry’s grip on Gavin’s mind was weakening as he had to battled four other people, but Gavin blinked very slowly and looked up. It took him a few seconds to focus on Ryan.

“... _help…_ ” Gavin whispered, looking more vulnerable than he had any right to be.

“I am going to help you Gavin. You need to stay awake.” Ryan said. “This is your own mind. You have enough control to get yourself out of these manacles.”

“I can?” Gavin repeated. “How?”

“You need to reject _this_ \- what you think is real here.” Ryan said, trying to prop Gavin up as much he could.

“Are you real?” Gavin asked.

“Yes. I’m real. Geoff’s real. Jack’s real. Michael and Ray are real. But everything else is a lie.” Ryan promised.

“Even Kerry?” Gavin glanced over at where Kerry was still fighting the other four. “He told me he was my friend.”

“Kerry lied to you. He was never your friend. He only wanted to hurt you, Gavin.” Ryan knew he still had his smoke mask on, but his gaze still dropped to the floor. “I’m sorry.”

Gavin’s eyes travelled over his Crew and Ryan saw a strange expression on his face. He chanced a glance over his shoulder and saw Geoff and Jack fighting Kerry, their backs to Gavin, swinging their swords in wide arcs to keep Kerry away from him. Ryan wasn’t sure why, but that seemed to harden Gavin’s resolve.  

“Don’t be.” Gavin said. He shakily put his weight on his legs and stood up. Ryan moved his hands to under Gavin’s arms, helping him as much as he could. “He was a prick.” Gavin smiled at Ryan and the chains began to melt away from his body, pooling on the ground around his feet.

Ryan felt a nice glow when he saw the determined look in Gavin’s eye and held out his hand. A bow with small symbols carved into the wood of it materialised in Ryan’s hands along with a quiver of arrows. He held them out to Gavin and Gavin didn’t hesitate to take the bow and quiver.

The smoke washed over him and Ryan felt a bit nostalgic when he saw the motley green tunic and chainmail. The bandages he wore around his forearms were a bit ratty and had grass stains on them. For some reason, he had an uncut red gemstone hanging around his neck alongside the green scarf he wore.

He notched an arrow and stood instinctively, pulling back the string and aiming directly at Kerry. Ryan watched as Gavin let out a slow breath and released the arrow.

It shot through the air but Kerry’s hand closed around it _just_ before it could touch him. The fight stopped and the other members of the Crew all seemed to withdraw. It was like the whole room was holding its breath.

Kerry looked up at Gavin and snapped the arrow into two, dropping the pieces onto the ground.

“Get out of my brain, you bellend!” Gavin shouted, notching another arrow and aiming it directly at Kerry’s heart. “And leave my family alone!”

“Which ones?” Kerry asked. “The ones who abandoned you and then died? Thinking you didn’t love them.”

“I _ran away_.” Gavin corrected. “And my family loved me, no matter what.”

“Not enough to write back, though.” Kerry said.

“ _You_ -” Gavin pulled the bowstring a little tighter. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I made my choice. Jack and Geoff took me in and they loved me enough to give me a chance. And that means more to me than _any_ emotional blackmail you can throw at me you sodding wanker!”

Gavin released the arrow and at the same time, Ray took a swipe at Kerry with his rapier. Kerry couldn’t dodge both of them at the same time and the arrow made a neat slice across Kerry’s cheek.

Kerry’s look was almost thunderous, but the chubby face he had rendered the look pretty much ineffectual now. He glared at Gavin and Ray, before shifting his gaze to Ryan.

“What did I tell you, Kerry?” Ryan asked, standing proudly amongst the Crew. “I told you I’d save them.”

“And you know what the Fates said? ‘ _The new kings and queen will be united to mourn once again_ ’.” Kerry said. Ryan didn’t have a moment to blink before he was moving in front of Kerry’s dagger.

There was a dead silence and Ryan could only feel the sting of the metal buried in his chest.

Kerry had disappeared and he felt five pairs of eyes staring at him.

“Rye…” Ray said quietly. Ryan only realised then that Kerry had thrown his dagger at Ray. And Ryan had thrown himself in front of that dagger with no thought about it.

“Can we get out of here?” Gavin asked.

“Sure, Gav. Let’s go wake you up.”

***

Ryan felt himself be brought back to reality for the fifth time that morning and his hand that was on Gavin flew to his chest. There was no wound, no blood. It hadn’t actually hurt him. He watched Gavin’s eyes fly open and saw the relieved smile that followed.  

The others that had gone into Gavin’s mind with him suddenly came back to life and Geoff gave him no warning before he tackled Gavin, wrapping his arms around Gavin’s waist. He had so much velocity that they both tumbled off the foot of the bed onto the floor, taking half the sheets with them and making a loud ‘ _thump_ ’. Geoff’s arm shot out and pulled Jack into the sloppy hug as well.

They stayed on the floor for a moment and Ryan allowed them their small privacy. Geoff and Jack held Gavin like they were never going to let him go again. Eventually, the three of them stood up and sat on Gavin’s bed, though Geoff was still hesitant to let either of them stray too far from his arms.

“So… we did it?” Michael asked, hesitant on his victory.

“For now.” Ryan replied. “But I doubt Kerry’s going to just leave you all alone now.”

“So what do we do?” Jack asked. Ryan realised that she was holding Geoff’s hand but he knew it wasn’t for her own reassurance.

“I don’t know.” Ryan said, honestly. “But I know that I’m not going to let him win. Prophecy or not, Kerry’s going _down_.”

***

Ryan stood outside on the balcony and felt the cold air over his skin. It felt nice and Ryan wasn’t sure why he liked it that much. Slowly, he stripped off his jacket and let the cold air just brush over him. It felt so _good_ to just _feel_.

He allowed himself this moment of just pure indulgence, before he forced himself to put his jacket back on and pull himself back together. Ryan knew that he had to find some way to protect the others. Maybe if he brought together all his Watchers, he could set up some kind of patrol system. Maybe he could hide the rest of the Crew away somewhere… But for five more years? That would be nigh impossible.

But Ryan at least had to _tell_ his watchers, right? The rest of the Crew was asleep anyway, they wouldn’t know if he was gone for a few hours.

“If you’re getting ready to disappear again, you could at least say goodbye.” Ray said, stepping out onto the balcony next to him. Ryan laughed a little at that and watched as Ray stood next to him.

“I’m not going to disappear. I was just going to make some plans to protect you guys.” Ryan said, turning his attention away from Ray.

“So you _were_ leaving.”

“I guess so.” Ryan admitted, shrugging.  

They let the silence between them stew for a moment. Ryan listened to Ray’s calm breaths beside him. He kept thinking about all the things he saw in his friends heads and what it was that Kerry used against them to keep them trapped in their heads.

“Hey Rye,” Ray said, catching Ryan’s attention. “You didn’t do anything wrong, you know.”

Ray’s gaze held a lot of words that he couldn’t say out loud and Ryan turned to look at him properly. His gaze was soft but firm and Ryan knew that there was no way Ray could lie with those eyes.

Ray’s hands hesitantly went to Ryan’s neck and Ryan let Ray pull him closer. His hands went to Ray’s hips and Ryan let Ray lean in for their long overdue kiss.

The smoke around Ryan’s head grew thinner, floating as wisps into the wind. The pressure around his head lessened and he let his eyes slide shut.

It was strange that he could feel Ray’s lips against his. But it was a nice strange. The best kind of warmth and thrill he could have in his eternal half-life.

Ray’s hands settled on Ryan’s own hips and he felt Ray pull him closer so they were pressed together. Ryan lifted one hand and settled it on Ray’s cheek. The gesture was tender; Ryan had almost forgotten how sweet tenderness could be.

Ryan was the one who broke the kiss, savouring the little sound Ray made when he pulled away. He let himself just look into Ray’s eyes but he frowned when he saw Ray’s expression.

“What?” Ryan asked, wondering if his years of celibacy had made him out of practice.

Ray didn’t respond. His hands slowly reached up and Ryan felt his soft touch on his cheeks. Those hands had killed countless people in multiple lives, but they barely grazed his skin as Ray touched his face.

“Dude, your _face_.” Ray said it in an awed whisper. Ryan wondered vaguely if he should be offended as he took a half-step backwards.

“What about it?” Ryan asked, frowning.

“I can see it.” Ray flattened his hands on Ryan’s face and Ryan suddenly understood. The smoke covering his head, his whole _body_ , was just... gone. Ryan’s own hand went to his head and he stilled at the feeling of his hair between his fingers.

It felt so foreign, so _alien_ , to feel his own hair, his own skin, the stubble he had before that hadn’t grown in all those centuries.

It felt like he was being unfrozen in a new world he already knew about. He didn’t think that it would ever happen.

Maybe the curse had been broken…

“Yo, Rye?” Ray said, waving his hand in front of Ryan’s face. Ryan blinked and focused back on the world.

“Yeah?” Ryan asked. Ray just smiled and slowly hooked his fingers through his belt loops. “So, how do I look?”

“Pretty hot, dude. Seriously.” Ray said, his smirk returning.

“Really?” Ryan felt himself smile at the unexpected compliment.

“Really.” Ray promised. “Super, super hot.”

“I don’t think I quite believe you yet.” Ryan teased, leaning in so his lips were barely touching Ray’s. Ray seemed to catch on and pulled Ryan closer again.

“I’ll prove it, then.” Ray promised, pressing his lips to Ryan’s again.

***

Ryan kept his eyes closed long after he woke up the next morning. He heard the slow sounds of people stirring and adjusted the blanket Geoff had given him so it covered his head.

Two pairs of feet walked into the kitchen and Ryan listened to the coffee machine start and the toaster open. Idle words made it to Ryan and he smiled under the blanket. It was so open, so homely.

Ryan heard a trail of footsteps stop beside him and leave. He peaked out just in time to see a gaudy shirt out the corner of his eye. Geoff’s mug with ‘ _Original Gangster_ ’ printed across it was placed in front of him with thin wisps of steam rising off it. Even though he still didn’t need nourishment, the thought was still was there.

Ryan waited until he heard a particular familiar voice in the apartment before he stirred. He had it planned out now.

Ryan sat up and stretched. He picked up the mug of coffee and walked over to the kitchen, settling amongst the other members of the Crew easily. Ray glanced up at him and Ryan saw the hint of a bruise that was hidden by his hoodie.

“Whoa, Ryan.” Geoff said, the first one to notice. “What happened to you buddy?”

Ryan shrugged nonchalantly, taking a fake sip of the coffee.

“I’m trying something out.” Ryan replied easily. “What? You don’t like it?”

“Looks good.” Jack said, mindlessly. She was buttering up a bagel and Ryan frowned when her eyes finally flicked up to meet his.

Ryan turned to glare at Ray.  

“You told them.” He said. Ray smirked over the top of his own mug.

“I don’t know _what_ you’re talking about.” Ray said innocently.

“BLOODY HELL, RYAN!” Gavin exclaimed, and Ryan suddenly realised neither Gavin nor Michael were actually in the room. A slight blip in his plan. Oh well.

“Whoa, Ryan! You’ve got a face now, buddy!” Michael exclaimed as well, beaming at him.

“Oh Ryan, now you’ve got a face and all that, you should look like one of the Crew!” Gavin said. He seemed too enthusiastic about it and Ryan didn’t want to dash his hopes this early in the morning.

“Like what?” Ryan asked, deciding to indulge him.

“Well, a new jacket for one.” Jack chipped in. Ryan had the suspicion that they had been talking about this. Jack just shrugged when Ryan frowned at her. “How long have you been wearing that thing? It’s got a bullet hole in it.”

“Fine,” Ryan agreed. “I’ll get rid of the jacket.”

“And new jeans.” Geoff said, barely looking up from a tablet he was reading from.

“Have you all been discussing my outfits?” Ryan half-demanded.

“Outfit. Singular.” Jack corrected, glancing over at some news article Geoff gestured to.

“You know what? _Fine_ , I’ll go get some new clothes.” Ryan said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Gav, you go get the car. Ray and I’ll meet you down in the garage.” Jack said, finishing her bagel.

“How long have you been waiting for this?” Ryan asked, frowning at the others.

“Since you got shot and refused to do anything to your jacket.” Geoff said. He didn’t look up from the tablet the whole time but Ryan was sure he could see the shit-eating grin on his face.

“You’re really hung up on the jacket, aren’t you?” Ryan asked, crossing his arms over his chest. The jacket practically groaned with the action and Geoff just looked up as if that proved his point. Ryan’s shoulders hunched forwards and there was the undeniable sound of material tearing. Ryan _knew_ that the unsewn bullet hole in his shoulder had just ripped. He pointedly looked away from Geoff’s smug and knowing face.

“Still think we’re hung up on the jacket?” Ray asked, that traitorous bastard.

“Alright. But I pick where we’re going.” Ryan said.

“That’s the spirit!” Geoff congratulated, while Jack lifted a mug in solidarity. Ryan resisted the urge to huff in annoyance.

This was going to be a long day.

***

Admittedly, it did feel nice getting a new jacket. He hadn’t realised just how old the jacket was (since wearing it for a couple decades straight didn’t tell him that) until Michael had practically thrown a nice jacket with stripes on the arms and blue panels his way. It had felt a little tight around the shoulders but Ryan had caught a glance at himself in a mirror and knew that it was the one.

Jack refused to let Ryan pay for the jacket, saying something about repaying him. (Ryan had a small feeling that Jack was either making him feel like one of their Lads or thanking him for all he did when they were trapped in their own minds).

Ray sneakily linked his fingers in Ryan’s in the back seat of Jack’s car as she drove down to the pier. Gavin had said that he wanted to get something or scope out somewhere or something like that. Ryan didn’t really concentrate since Ray’s thumb was stroking his knuckles in a way that seemed deliberate but forgotten; an unconscious gesture that was all Ryan could think about.

Jack finally parked the car near the pier and they all clambered out. Ray had to let go of Ryan’s hand and Ryan hated how he missed it.

“Err, Ray?” Gavin said, looking up the pier like he was looking for something. “Why don’t you go show Ryan the arcade?”

“Sure Gav. That sounds pretty fun.” Ray said, glancing at Ryan beside him.

“Great. We’ll meet back here in a couple hours?” Jack said, checking something on her phone.

“Sounds like a plan.” Gavin agreed, a bit too excitedly for something pretending to be nonchalant.

Gavin practically dragged Jack away and Ryan barely looked at Ray before he felt Ray’s hand slip into his.

“Come on; the arcade’s actually pretty cool.” Ray said, almost pulling Ryan along to where the arcade stood, vintage and proud, it’s new, old-fashion lights contrasting with the ancient sea horizon directly beside it.

There was something about the image of a few people milling around and the classic pier amusements juxtaposed with the feeling of Ray’s hand in his and the familiar glimpses of technology in the form of people taking photos together or talking on the phone ( _loudly_ ); something about everything made Ryan’s chest feel strange in a good way.

His hand tightened around Ray’s hand for a moment and Ray just smiled, dragging him into the arcade to show him the games.

***

Ray’s phone went off a few hours later and he quickly checked the messages while Ryan tried desperately to win the virtual car race he was in.

“Jack wants to meet at the end of the pier.” Ray said, tucking his phone back into his pocket.

“Alright, let me just finish this race.” Ryan said, furiously twisting the wheel to try and outrace the other AI cars.

He finished the race in third place and Ray quickly dragged him away so he didn’t sulk over his virtual lost. (“Motherfucker crashed into me on purpose stupid AI.”) Ryan saw Jack and Gavin standing by the railing. Gavin was obviously trying to conceal a fairly large box behind him but Ryan knew it was a bit hopeless.

“Hey guys.” Ray said, sneakily removing his hand from Ryan’s and tucking it in his pocket. Not that Ryan really minded. He understood.

“Hey X-Ray,” Gavin said brightly.

“Get what you needed?” Ryan asked, looking towards Gavin specifically.

“Yep.” Gavin said. There was a split second before Gavin’s face broke out into a wide grin and held out the box towards Ryan. “Surprise!”

Ryan reached forwards and took the lid off the box Gavin held out to him. He reached in and pulled out the object inside, turning it in his hands.

It was a mask. One that covered his whole head. The mask was slightly flexible but rigid enough to hold it’s shape.

What struck Ryan the most was the fact that it was patterned and sculpted to look like a burnt skull. The material was matt and Ryan could trace the slight indentations on the skull bone structure. It was almost hyperrealistic and Ryan could only wonder when Gavin had the time to get this mask made.

“Do you like it?” Gavin asked, looking at Ryan’s face a bit nervously. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, but I just thought that since you had that smoke thing for so long you might want something to help you adjust a little, or you could use it for heists since-”

Ryan very slowly reached up and slid the mask on over his head. It had a small snap fastener on the back of his so that it would be easier to put on and Ryan carefully closed it with a small, almost silent _pop_. The inside of it had a very slight smell of plastic but Ryan wasn’t bothered by it.

As soon as he had it on, Ryan felt more at ease. Something about having his face exposed in public made Ryan feel uneasy, but now he was wearing his mask, Ryan could actually feel himself relax a bit more.

“I love it, Gavin.” Ryan said, his voice just a little bit muffled by the mask.

“You really like it?” Gavin asked, looking proud of himself.

“I do.” Ryan promised. “It’s perfect.”

“Feeling better, big guy?” Jack asked, sneakily putting her phone back into her pocket. Ryan had a sneaky feeling that Jack was texting Geoff.

“Much.” Ryan nodded. He wondered what the civilians were thinking of him.

“Well, then let’s go celebrate.” Jack suggested. “Lunch anyone? Ryan can pick.”

“That sounds great, Jack.” Gavin said, already walking back to the car with Jack.

“You do realise we’re just trying to keep you out the house for a while.” Ray said, leaning in close to Ryan and keeping his voice down, as they trailed behind Jack and Gavin.

“Oh I know.” Ryan said. “I assume it has something to do with that spare room Geoff wouldn’t let me in.”

“Something like that.” Ray said, shrugging easily. Ryan felt Ray’s fingers brush against his hand.

“Well I’m sure I’ll love my new room.” Ryan said, smirking from behind his mask.

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re too smart for your own good?” Ray asked, his fingers lingering on Ryan’s skin for a few seconds.

“Only someone I really liked.” Ryan said, feeling brave enough to wrap his hand around Ray’s for a brief second.

“Oi! Hurry up you two!” Gavin called out to them, much further in front of them than Ryan realised.

“We’re coming! Geez!” Ray shouted right back, rolling his eyes and making Ryan laugh.

Ryan liked the way his laugh sounded now and he didn’t want to stop, really.

***

“Hello Ryan.” The old friend said, smiling at Ryan warmly. Ryan smiled back to him, glad to see the old friend.

“Hey, come in. Can I get you something to drink?” Ryan asked, stepping aside to let them into the apartment. Matt walked inside and sat on the sofa, looking out of place for no reason other than previous experience.

“No, thank you, Ryan.” Matt said. “I’m just here to check in.”

“Check in? Is something wrong?” Ryan asked, sitting down on a chair opposite him.

“Not _wrong_. I just know what happened with Kerry.” Matt said gently. “How are they?”

“A bit shaken, but you’d never know it.” Ryan admitted. “Some of them are still having nightmares. Gavin tried to refuse going to sleep. Michael and Geoff had to force him to take a nap the other day.”

“What’s with the mask?” Matt said, gesturing to the skull mask that Gavin had surprised him with at the pier. He had looked so proud of himself for recognising Ryan’s small signs of discomfort with his exposed face and for thinking of a creative solution.

It was a well made mask and dark enough so that when Ryan caught his reflection, it wasn’t jarring. And the rest of the Crew all had their own positive comments about it.

They couldn’t really complain when it made Ryan feel more at ease.

“It was a gift.” Ryan said casually.

“You have some nice friends.” Matt commented, casually kind. “Look, Ryan, if there’s anything I can do to help, don’t be afraid to just call me.”

“I know you’re here to help.” Ryan said. “But I think for now, we can handle it. But thank you, Lord Hullum.” He said, momentarily forgetting everything that had changed.

“I’m not a Lord anymore, Ryan.” Matt said, sounding like a father gently reprimanding his child.

“I know.” Ryan said. “And we’re not Kings anymore. Times change.”

“The good thing about that is, so do people.” Matt said, standing up. “Well I think I should be on my way. Good luck, Ryan. Don’t be afraid to call on me or the other Lords. I know Joel misses you and Jack.”

“If worst comes to worst, then I will. I promise.” Ryan said, knowing deep down that he wouldn’t.

“Hey, does Geoff know yet?” Matt asked suddenly. Ryan was never more glad for the others to be out than he was then.

“If he does. He hasn’t said anything.” Ryan admitted. He voice was quiet and conspiratory, like he was afraid the silence would overhear.

“Well Gus misses him. And don’t you think he should be able to know why Gus had to leave?” Matt said, raising a single eyebrow.

“I can’t be the one to tell them.” Ryan said, looking away in shame, almost. ( _Almost._ )

“I know you want to protect them, but maybe knowing is the thing that will save them.” Matt said, reaching and putting his hand on Ryan’s shoulder comfortingly. “Do you even know how you’re going to get Gavin’s memories back?”

“No.” Ryan admitted. “Kerry is the one who wronged him. And we still don’t know how to get his vengeance.”

“Have you asked the others? Didn’t Jack actually _see_ Gavin be wrong?” Matt said. “All I’m trying to say is you couldn’t fight an army alone before, and you still can’t know. The Alliance was made for a _reason_ , and now you’ve all found each other again. There aren’t any accidents in History. We know that better than most, Ryan.”

“I know.” Ryan said quietly. “It’s just difficult knowing that I have been responsible for them their whole lives and now they’re able to take care of themselves and want to take care of me.” Matt smiled knowingly.

“It’s always hard seeing your kids grow up.” Matt said knowingly. “That how we felt about you.”

“You were always watching over us?” Ryan asked.

“All of us were.” Matt said. “I should be going. I’ll see you around, Ryan. Remember to call us if you need any help.”

Ryan watched as Matt left and felt something heavy settle in his chest. It had been a long time since he felt the weight of five other lives on him.

Whatever happened to them now, at least it they would be together this time. Ryan wasn’t sure if he could handle fighting Dragonface again alone.

And hey, at least they weren’t hopelessly outnumbered this time.

That was something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's a wrap :3
> 
> again, thank you to anyone who left a comment or a kudos. 
> 
> Some side stories will probably be making their way out sometime in the future ( ~~there may even be something a bit more than that~~ ) but rn school is killing me so don't hold your breath just yet :(
> 
> If there's anything I haven't quite clarified, feel free to ask and I hope you enjoyed the fic as much as I enjoyed writing it :3

**Author's Note:**

> ~~it took me so god damn long to edit this~~
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> I'm [private-doughnut](http://private-doughnut.tumblr.com/) on tumblr


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